Redemption and relapse BTVS xover
by LillianLuthor
Summary: Methos decides to put some distance between himself and the Highlander, and takes a post as a European History teacher in Sunnydale
1. Default Chapter

Title: Redemption and relapse

Fandom: x-over BTVS/Ats/HL

Pairing: if you must know... à Spike/Xander, Methos/Richie, Willow/Tara, Giles/Joe  
Rating: PG, pre-slash  
Author: Lillian Luthor  
E-mail: isso_k@yahoo.com  
Feedback: sure, I'm a bitch for it... I'll even settle for flames if you have nothing good to say  
Archive: if you care enough to want it, you have it. just let me know, or whatever... 

Disclaimer: they're not mine, nothing this pretty has ever been mine... I'm just borrowing, in an amateur and unprofitable kind of way.

The Scoop: Methos decides to put some distance between him and the Highlander, and takes a post as a European History teacher in Sunnydale

The weather was just fine in Sunnydale, the immortal thought as he made his way into the decadent little hotel that Adam Pierson could afford. Along the years he had gotten so used to pretend to be penny-less that he actually didn't even consider to try and find a house for himself in this new town. His departure from Seacouver had been rather rash, and he hadn't even thought about living arrangements. As a matter of fact, if he hadn't gotten this job, he would have probably gone anywhere just to get away from Mac. 

The whole Horsemen issue was supposedly discussed, understood and forgiven, but Methos knew better after 5000 years. Mac had not forgotten, and probably not even really forgiven him. Sure, they talked a lot, they visited each other, had some beers together at Joe's... last time Methos had shot him to keep him from a fight, the Highlander hadn't even been all that mad. But all the same. Something was not right, not anymore, and whatever it was it made Methos feel awkward around Mac.

With Joe it was a whole different matter. Joe had forgiven him, he could tell without doubts. After all, it was to be expected. They had been friends for a long time, back at the watchers, and they understood each other better than he and the Highlander ever could. Joe had not even been mad at him when he discovered he was Methos! In fact, he had asked Joe to come and visit him as soon as he got the chance, and Joe had been thrilled at the offer. 

But for now he was carefree and in a tourist mood. He knew Sunnydale was number one spot for paranormal activities, and he found in that a wonderful opportunity to polish his rather rusty knowledge on these kind of things. Back in the day, he had found paranormal research very interesting, even more so because it made him feel a little bit more normal. He had even been actively involved in contention of paranormal forces. However, right now all he wished for was to get reacquainted with the subject in a theoretical point of view, and stay as much out of trouble as possible. That was his best attribute, perfected over many centuries.

As for now, he had his first class in about half an hour. He would barely have time to drop his things at the hotel and head to campus. Later, he would have plenty of time to nose around.

The class was quite our of order, and as soon as Willow and her had entered the class room, late already, they had realized the professor was not there yet. That had brought a sigh of relief from Buffy, because it had been entirely her fault that they were late, and Willow had been one step from a nervous breakdown when she realized they would be late to their first European History class. 

Buffy didn't even know why she was taking European History anyway, mostly she was just following Will around, but it was never good to put up with Willow if she got nervous. As soon as they were seated, the professor showed up.

At first she, and everyone in the room she figured, had thought that he was just another student taking care of the class until the real professor arrived. First, because the man seemed way too young for a teacher, and second, because he was wearing jeans and a casual white sweater, and he didn't even carry any books or papers. However, all doubts were dismissed when he sat on top of his desk and introduced himself to the class;

"Sorry I'm late. I'm Mr. Pierson, and I'll be your European History nightmare for the next semester" he said in a casual tone, as he stood up suddenly and grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen from one of the students in the first row "Since it's late already, why don't you all just pass this paper around and sign your names, so I can know who's present and who's not" he offered, signing the top of the page with the name of the class and his own name, and handing it over to Willow, who sat next to Buffy in the first row as well.

"And now, let's see..." he said as the paper started going around the class room "Since you all have books and papers and I have none, where do you think we should start?" for a minute he looked animatedly around the class, and when nobody attempted to reply he just picked at random, pointing his finger at Willow "You, redhead, where do we start?"

He should have never left Oxford, he thought as he made his way back to the office they had assigned him after his first class. During the whole class he had barely managed to make a few of the students speak, and for the most not even coherently. The redhead had been well informed yet too shy for his taste, but he could work around that. And the blond bimbo of her friend, Gods, she had dozed about a dozen times during his class! 

He was either becoming very old and boring, or these kids lacked all enthusiasm when it came to ancient history. Which in the end came to the same; he was very old already, and his class was actually like a grandfather telling his teenager grandchildren about his youth. Of course, grandpa could not flunk them, and he could, and would, so they better smart up in the next couple of classes.

He was glad to put away those irritating thoughts as a smiling man dressed in classy tweed approached him, and shook his hand in a warm greeting;

"You must be Mr. Pierson, the new professor" he said friendly "I am Rupert Giles, the librarian"

"A pleasure, Rupert" he smiled back, instantly liking the fellow, specially for the accent they shared "Call me Adam, please. I still have to get used to the Mr. Pierson thing"

"Yes, you are indeed quite young for a professor" the man conceded as he fixed his glasses to scan him all the better "I see you are British as well... I didn't get that when they told me there would be a new member of this faculty" he added, and then he momentarily looked away, and Adam noticed it was to look at redhead and Blondie, who were both just exiting the class room "Well, I am afraid I have pressing business at hand" the man apologized "Maybe we can meet at the cafeteria later, have some coffee and discuss the text books available..." he offered

"Sure, Rupert. I'll put some things together for my next class, and then I'll meet you there" he accepted thankful

With that, the librarian shook his hand once more and headed towards the two girls, who waited for him conveniently in the hallway, with a third girl who had just joined them. Adam was somewhat interested to see them walk away together, talking in an obviously familiar fashion, as he headed for his office.

Once there, he was glad to find a message in his cell phone. It was from Joe, who promised to meet him in Sunnydale in a couple of days. He would leave MacLeod in charge of his bar, as the Highlander was quite free these days. 

"So what do you think about Mr. Pierson?" Giles asked as they headed for the library

"Scary" Buffy said at once "I don't think he likes me... I dozed on him a couple of times, and I don't think he took it well... that, and the fact that I spelled my own name wrong when I signed that stupid paper" she sighed, then immediately justified herself "I was tired! All night slaying!"

"I liked him, he seems to know a lot" Willow stated "But what kind of teacher does not carry his books? It seemed like he just jumped off a plane and landed there in class, and started improvising... and I was constant mark of his improvisation! I don't think I can take that much pressure..." she sighed, resting her head upon Tara's shoulder in search of emotional support

"You can take it, sweetie... I'm sure he wouldn't have asked you if he didn't feel you could follow him..." the girl tenderly replied as she tentatively caressed the red head

"Yes, well" Giles explained as they entered the library "For what I've seen of his credentials, he's fully capable... actually, it's quite amazing for a man of his age. I am sure you will find his classes thrilling as soon as he gets used to Sunnydale"

"Yeah, I bet" Buffy exclaimed little less than enthusiastic as she entered the library the last, and closed the door behind her

Another class, another sigh of frustration. Maybe it was just because it was the first day, but suddenly Methos found himself thinking what was it that Mac found so interesting about teaching nowadays. This time, he had had to force himself to shut out a sarcastic reply as a four-eyed nerd had tried to correct him. Hello? I was there! he had thought, and he had thanked the gods his sword was back in his car, or he would have severed the boy's head right there.

Well, at least someone he liked here after all, he thought as he headed for the library. Rupert had seemed an amiable person at first sight, and he surely didn't look like another of the half-brained idiots he had met all over the place. Besides that, he had in immense curiosity as to why the man had left him so suddenly, earlier that day, to go talk with redhead and bimbo.

As he entered the library, to his surprise, he found it was empty. No one, nowhere. A sad confirmation of his earlier statement: he _should_ have stayed at Oxford. However, as soon as he entered the librarian came to greet him, book in hand, and that kept him from ruining his mood even more with thoughts of disappointment.

"Oh, Adam" the man at once smiled "I was just looking for some books you might find interesting" he said, pointing at a table in which some five books were piled up "It's just the tip of the iceberg, but it might prove useful for a start"

"Thanks, Rupert" he said as he walked towards the pile, barely glancing at the titles without showing much interest "I really don't need these all that much, you know. Mostly for psychological aid, since the students don't seem to be taking me all that seriously."

"Well, you _do_ look rather young..." Giles started, but was immediately interrupted by Methos mocking chuckle

"This is a funny one..." he mentioned, picking up one of the books "in this volume, this guy thinks he's got a revolutionary concept in his hands, and he's actually making a nearly one thousand years chronological slip..."

"Yes, well, I think so too" Giles answered thrilled, walking closer to the other man "You have a rather awesome knowledge for someone..." _your age_, he was about to say, but immediately discarded it as potentially disrespectful

"Yes, you too" Methos grinned, turning to face him "I'll take this one with me, if you don't mind... I like the characterization it has on Bronze Age. It makes it feel quite like... home" he grinned, and handed the book over to Giles

"Yes, well. Would you care for some coffee?" the librarian politely said as he handed the book back to the immortal "Just take it, bring it back when you will" 

"Thanks, Rup" he answered appreciatively, heading for the door "I just finished my day here, so I'm going to get a beer somewhere and go home... I'll accept that coffee tomorrow, if the offer is still standing"

"Certainly" Giles replied, and with that Methos was gone

It had been a hell of a day. Literally. All day long, locked in that house with that idiotic Xander Harris, listening to his whining about Cordelia going to Los Angeles, and about his guilt for making out with Willow and spoiling what he had with the cheerleader. 'Get over it, Harris, the one's gone, and the other's a big fat lesbo', he had said. And then it had started all over again, and this time he had to put up with the boy's stupid speculations about his reasons to betray Angelus, and mocking comments about the time he almost married Buffy.

He asked himself daily why was he staying at Xander's. It had been a long time since he had moved there. The chip in his head had been a traumatic experience and he was still to get rid of it, but it was certainly time he regained his independence. That much time spent with that moronic loser couldn't be good for someone's integrity, not to mention reputation. And his had been damaged enough already by betraying his supposed friends and joining forces with the Slayer. 

The only person with half a brain in this damn town was Buffy's mother, and he couldn't even see her that much of late, because the slayer didn't like him visiting her mom. The little brat. He usually went during the weeks, when Buffy was staying at the dorms, but somehow she always seemed to know when he had been there. Maybe it was the cigarettes butts he left behind. He had thought it was the slayer's sister, but then he had come to realize the little one actually liked him. She even let him snicker into the house when the slayer was at home for the weekend, if he really had one of those emotional emergency he could only work out with Joyce. 

He would have loved to go visit her now, come to think of it. All day long hearing Xander's verbal brooding had brought back memories of Angel to him, and boy, had he hated the bastard! Everything had been so perfect between the four of them, The Scourge of Europe, and then the moron had had to get himself cursed with a soul and leave them behind. And then, from the moment Angelus had left them, everything had just gotten worse and worse. 

Darla had at once left them as well, heading back to the welcoming arms of the master, her sire. But he and Dru couldn't go... he had heard Angelus complain about the master for decades, and it didn't seem tempting at all. So they had stayed in the old world, wandering around, until Dru had almost gotten killed in Prague. So they had headed for the States, trying to look for a cure for her, and thinking of the master as the last resort.

The Master had been already dead by then, as well as Darla, and that accursed Angel had been in town, helping the current slayer. He had really hated soul-boy, but then when he had lost the soul he had started hating him even more. You always idealize the past that was somewhat good to you, true, but his memories of Angelus were completely out of place. Why did he remember those as the good times? He had always been an abusive bastard, that much granted, but somewhere along the way Spike had stopped accepting to be abused. And of late, he had even stopped enjoying to abuse others... well, make it 'to abuse them much'.

Who knows? Maybe he had started liking Xander to tell him of his problems, and Dawn to let him snick into their house to talk to Joyce... Joyce always kept candy for him, and had even bought an ashtray. And then there was the ex-demon girl, Anya. She was really annoying, but she was relatively nice to him, as if she understood the way he felt; maybe, when they took away her powers, she had felt the same he had when they had chipped him.

And now, listen to him! He just hoped nobody could ever tell what he was thinking at the moment, or else his reputation would _really_ be ruined. Since Joyce was out of town buying some stuff for the gallery, his best shot was to get really drunk and forget about all the crap that was going on in his mind. And for that, maybe the Bronze would do. With luck, been a school day, none of the scobbies would be there.

He should have know better. This was a rather smaller town than he was used to. When he had asked where he could go grab a beer, and the giggling teenager girls had told him 'The Bronze', he should have known better than actually going. Now he was _surrounded _by giggling teenagers, and a few of the older ones had even dared to try and hit on him. Some were even cute, he would give them that, but a one-night-stand with a teenager in a small town was not a good idea, and putting up with them for longer than a night seemed too stressing. 

He was thinking of that, and scanning the room in the hope to find another adult, when suddenly he noticed the person who had just taken a stool next to him at the bar. Bleached blond, obviously not a teenager and not crazy about them either, judging by the look on his face as the bartender handed him a beer. _He knew this man. _He was trying to figure out who he was, when suddenly the man stared at him with a raised eyebrow, and the thought just clicked in. _Vampire._

"Like what you see?" the vampire asked mockingly, and then Methos realized he had been staring for quite a while.

"I was just wondering how much bleach a person could stand without going bald" Methos replied casually, as he asked for another beer and congratulated himself for trying to annoy a vampire.

"Yeah, at least I'm not wearing the sweater my grandma knitted" the vampire hissed as he lit a cigarette. Much to Methos surprise, he offered him one "Looking at the bright side, though, I don't have to buy you booze illegally" he added, putting away the cigarettes as Methos declined the offer.

"I take it you don't like the legions of teens either" Methos commented, hoping the vampire was old enough to give an interesting talk before trying to kill him. In the worst of cases, death by vampire was not one of the ugliest ways of dying, and it could even be enjoyable if you were in the mood. And he really needed someone to talk to in this damn town, before he started regretting to be here.

"Can't say I'm particularly fond of adolescents, given the fact that a group of them has ruined my life more or less. I just can't seem to make up my mind to leave here..." he sighed. 

__

Of course you wouldn't, this is the Hellmouth, Methos thought, but then the expression on the blond vampire's face made him think that his reasons for staying were far more elaborate than just that. Given the fact that if the vampire wanted to have him for dinner he had probably made up his mind already, he did not care for discretion. 

"So why do you stay?" he asked interested, seeing if he could make a conversation to make him pass the time

"One could say I'm growing bloody attached..." the vampire chuckled, then grew serious again "I used to have this _family_, we went together everywhere, cared about nobody else..." he explained, looking intently at Methos to see if he was listening "But then it all started to fall apart, and slowly I started feeling uncomfortable with the things they did... one could say I outgrew them, but somehow it felt like I was the wrong one. So I sided with the ones that I knew would win, and have been siding with them ever since" for a moment the vampire paused, giving his empty beer an absent glance as he asked for another "Somewhere along the way, I think I started growing used to them, you know, their silly habits, their stupid morals..."

"So you're emotionally codependent" Methos stated matter-of-factly as he drank and stared at the blonde, whose eyes were suddenly wide open at the hearing of that "Yeah, well, don't be ashamed... I'm here because I fear I'm growing emotionally codependent myself..."

"It's not the same" the vampire interrupted 

"You have no idea..." Methos sighed, asking for yet another beer "You try to please them, but somehow it's never good enough, because whatever you did in the past, will never be forgotten nor forgiven. So you work harder, but you don't want it to look like you're trying to please them, so you keep up this cynical personality that somehow keeps them far enough from you... or maybe you just don't want to admit that you're tying to please them, because it would make you feel like you've gone soft" for a moment he paused, and he saw the vampire with a raise eyebrow, staring at him as if in shock "Point here is, you always try to please the one who is so narrow-minded that could never understand you, and instead take for granted the ones who get it. What you should do, I know _I _will, is take the hand that's offered and stop reaching for the one that's too dubious to hold you"

"What are you, a bloody mind reader?" the vampire asked incredulous

"No, sorry, I'm just a guy" Methos grinned. Truth was, however old the vampire was, he was still a child. It showed. And it had taken Methos five millennia to figure this much out, so he couldn't really blame the other guy.


	2. 02

"What are you, a bloody mind reader?" he had asked in disbelief. 

How could this human know so well what was going on in his mind at the time? Maybe it was just a coincidence, but coincidences this big are unlikely. However, he could feel nothing extraordinary about this man to make him think that he was some kind of demon. He was just the guy next door. Yet the way he talked... it seemed he had been living in the same situation as Spike for years.

"No, sorry, I'm just a guy" he grinned, and suddenly Spike caught a glimpse of something deceptive in the man's eye. It was just a fraction of a second, and then it was gone, leaving only the man in his early thirties... 

He was letting his mind slip to thoughts of how this guy's blood would taste, when suddenly he felt a hand hit him casually in the head, and turned shocked to find Xander standing right behind him.

"Figured I'd find you here Spike" the boy said in his most goofy tone, yet Spike could tell he was just acting silly to hide something, maybe something painful. 

__

Scary, he thought, when he realized how much he had gotten to know the little clown of late. He was soon taken from his thoughts by another oh-too-cheerful exclamation, as Xander took the empty seat at Spike's left;

"I see you've been using this poor guy as a Joyce substitute now that she's out of town and can't psychoanalyze you over the phone" he laughed, pointing at Methos

"Yeah, well, psychoanalyzing others always works to forget one's own problems" Methos smiled, standing up and grabbing from the next stool a trench-coat that was pretty much alike Spike's own coat and putting it on cautiously.

"Leaving already?" Xander asked in his more-than-usual maniacal tone "Did I interrupt a planning-to-destroy-the-world meeting?"

Spike couldn't but give the boy a threatening look, but deep inside he was always thankful for those stupid comments. Kind of took some pressure off him, if they asked him. The stranger, astonishingly easy after the tactless statement, just patted Spike on the shoulder in a friendly manner and, leaning closer to his ear, whispered;

"Just take the hand that's offered, and maybe the reluctant hand will come right after..." 

Then the guy paid his drinks and, giving Xander and Spike an acknowledging look, headed for the door after a casual "I'll be seeing you guys later"

--o--

__

Well done, Xander! Just mention world destruction planning to the guy just sitting there. Good introduction line. 

Luckily the guy had not really taken him seriously. That, or they were actually planning to destroy the world. But it was very unlikely, because Spike had never been all that world-destruction-inclined, and after the chip he didn't even drink from humans anymore. Still, it looked like Spike hadn't really appreciated the comment, and it made him feel kind of guilty to mock him now that he was siding with the good guys.

Truth was, he even liked Spike. Angel, that was one bastard he hated. Up from the very beginning. And not only because he was taking Buffy from him, no, he had really hated him because he never really explained anything; why he was helping, who he really was. Had it been up to him, they would have never even known he was a vampire. But with Spike... it was a whole different matter.

He had shown up without warning in Sunnydale, willing to kill the slayer, and he had ended up helping her. As a rule, Xander had decided to blame all of Spike's murderous inclinations to Drusilla. In the end, when she finally dumped him, he had returned to Sunnydale to cry his heart out. And then he had tried really hard to be the big bad again, and had miserably failed each and every time. Maybe the chip had been a blessing, so he wouldn't have to keep trying to be evil... now he had a justification for not really wanting to cause chaos and mass destruction.

As he saw him, Spike was just like the punk who tires of juvenile vandalism and becomes a corporate lawyer; his ethics were still somewhat twisted, and he didn't have an inclination to help the hopeless but rather help himself, and yet, he didn't feel anymore like causing destruction for no good reason.

"So what's the deal, Harris?" Spike's voice interrupted his thinking. When he looked up at Spike, it looked like he was doing a big effort to pull the conversation, which struck Xander as weird. 

"Deal? No deal! I'm just fine, and wanting to spend some quality time with my pal Spike!"

The rising eyebrow gave him a valuable hint. When had Spike actually become his 'pal'? He only lived with him, used his clothes, ate his meals, drank his sodas, and basically knew more about him than any of his friends... Sure, he was always telling Spike his problems, and complaining about how he had no superpowers and was always left behind so he wouldn't get hurt. But, this was... Spike. Spike, the vampire. 

"Okay, Harris, just pack it up... I'll probably have to hear of it later anyway, when we get home and you start brooding about whatever it is that you're all anxious about" the vampire again interrupted his mental monologue

"I don't brood, Spike! I release my tension by telling you!" Xander jumped to his own defense

"Whatever" the blonde said with a dismissive wave of his hand "maybe if I 'released some tension' myself I wouldn't be so tense right now... I feel like killing something"

For a moment the declaration shocked him. Spike? Wanting to release tension in something _other_ than killing something? He knew Spike had this platonic relationship with Joyce, and he knew how sometimes he went to visit her and spent whole nights away from home, obviously talking his problems out with her, but it had never occurred to him that maybe Spike would want to discuss those issues with him as well. 

He hated the silence that had fallen between them, because it allowed him to think of some disturbing things. Like, why _would_ he care if Spike wanted to talk instead of kill? Or, when had Spike developed the capacity to know when something was troubling him? And, worse still, when had they started referring to Xander's house as _home_?

He was really thankful when Buffy walked through the Bronze door and, immediately spotting them, walked towards him to say hello. She was obviously tired and annoyed after the slaying of the night.

"Since when do you have beers with Spike?" she said as a hello, barely glancing at the blonde vampire as she spoke

"I just ran into him when I came to see if you or the girls were here" he said instantly as some kind of excuse for been sharing space with Spike, which immediately struck him as weird. He didn't have to apologize for sharing a bedroom with him, it hadn't even been his idea in the first place, so why apologize for having a beer with him? 

"Don't worry about kicking me out, slayer, I'm just leaving anyway" Spike said at once, taking the hint, and with that he stood up to leave. 

--o--

__

Good morning Sunnydale, he said to himself as he opened his eyes and realized it was already late to take a bath before his first class. It had really been long since he had been subjected to schedules, and waking up early was not his strongpoint. He would barely have time to wash his face and change clothes, so the students would at least not notice he hadn't showered.

As he brushed his teeth, he remembered the vampire he had met that night, and before he could realize he had gotten caught in a mix of memories, deductions and conclusions. The story the vampire had told him, although restricted for the porpoise of not giving away his real nature, had very much resembled Methos' own personal history. When he thought about it, all he had been trying to do for at least the last year was to please MacLeod. That judgmental, narrow-minded highlander with his boy-scout ideals. 

He felt happy that he was following the same advice he had given the vampire the night before, and would be expecting Joe to arrive in Sunnydale the next morning. That was a friendship that was worth working on, and he was a friend that had earned the title in fire and blood. 

While he drove his car to the campus, his mind was still racing, organizing his new life under the motto of 'the highlander hates you, so you might as well pretend he doesn't exist'. Joe would come and visit, and they would talk of all the things they hadn't discussed in the last few months, and they would have fun remembering old times and commenting on old manuscripts and last-minute decapitations.

Then he made a prospective list of potential friends there in Sunnydale, starting with Rup, the librarian, who seemed a very affable person and also an intelligent and cultured man, both very interesting qualities in a newfound friend. Then he thought about Spike, the vampire in the Bronze, and it surprised him a bit to find the nasty natural predator included in his list, but he at once decided it was a right choice. Maybe he had even more in common with him than their brief talk had showed, and he hadn't even tried to bite him, so that much for him.

So immersed he was in his own thoughts that he didn't even realize as he parked his car in his designated spot and started walking towards his classroom. Once there, and noticing he had forgotten his books again, he just decided to start questioning someone in the first row of seats. 

"Okay, let's see... redhead"

The look on her face was priceless, but he surely could annihilate that shyness if only he pressed hard enough. She certainly had the brains, and to have a specimen of his very own to investigate and manipulate would be at least some fun in that rather boring town. _Positive manipulation_, he told himself as he shot another question at the terrified girl.

--o--

He had briefly encountered Adam in the hallways before the first class of the morning, and they had arranged to meet for coffee after second period in the library. 'You bring the coffee, Rup' Adam had smilingly proposed 'and I'll just bring myself... I'm good at that'. A brilliant fellow, he appeared to be, and also very affable and well predisposed. 

Not only was he in a favorable mood for the prospect of their quickly developing friendship, but also he was in good spirits after he had received a call from an old friend, letting him know that he would be in town the next day, visiting a friend, and since he was planning to stay for a while he would like to meet him as well.

When the time had been right, he had fetched the coffee and sat there reading a strange book he had recently acquired as he waited for Adam. As usual, the young man arrived a little after the stipulated time, carrying a modest pile of papers.

"American kids" he exclaimed as he made himself comfortable and deposited the papers on top of the table "You should see the look on their faces when they hear the words 'surprise essay on Bronze Age, eight hundred words'. Only a few were able to catch up on the fact that eight hundred words are just barely a couple of pages... I think most of them took longer counting words than actually writing"

"Well, yes, times have changed... you don't look old enough to all that surprised about it" Giles replied with a slightly compassionate tone, although fully agreeing with Adam's appreciation on modern schooling 

"Yes, well, it hasn't been so long since I was a student somewhere" he commented, remembering his times as an apprentice at the watchers "and let me tell you, those guys surely squeezed your brain to the last living brain-cell" 

It seemed he would go on with his depreciation of collage nowadays, when suddenly his eyes caught the cover of the book Giles had been browsing, and at once noticed the gothic lettering reading 'The Scourge of Europe: a synthetic review by a slayer's watcher'. The librarian could appreciate how Adam's smile faded from his lips, as a somber look set in the youthful face. 

"What were you reading?" he asked in a casual tone, after he had swiftly regained his composure. It had been only a couple of seconds that his facial expression had been so distorted, but Giles had just happened to catch it. 

"Oh, well, this is just a weird book I found in a shop downtown" Giles explained, omitting the fact that the shop actually belonged to him "I thought it might have some historical value, but then it's only just peasant folklore"

"I see... mindless superstitious waste, uh?" the youth smiled, taking his coffee and obviously resting importance to the matter "Who's the writer?" he asked casually, just out of politeness, Giles assumed

"Oh, nobody you would be familiar with... one Benjamin Adams"

"Never heard of him... mustn't have been such a great guy" Methos grinned, and immediately changed the subject to more abstract matters, which Giles deeply appreciated.

He surely liked Adam, even with his heavy charge of cynicism and irresponsibility, but he definitely didn't want to get anyone else involved in the slayer's secret life. They had broken the rules a lot already, put many lives in danger... lives that were still in danger as they spoke about art and history, and he was profoundly against adding yet another person in the likely-to-get-killed list.

--o--

"Don't you have some house to build somewhere?" Spike exclaimed annoyed when he was awaken from his deep and comforting sleep by the TV, to find Xander laughing like a moron of some stupid Three Stooges rerun "You're missing two stooges, Harris..." he complained as he forced himself up

"One" he replied, still focused on the show "With you we make two already"

"What changed since last night that brought you back to your average state of goofiness?" the blonde hissed as he moved towards Xander and grabbed the remote from his hands "Are you stoned?" he asked in disbelief as he changed channels to watch Passions.

"Nothing changed" the young man replied, as he stood up to battle for the remote with Spike "I'm still stupid and you're still depressed and moody..." he stated, as he regained control over the remote and put the stooges back "Wanna talk about it?"

"What? With you?" Spike laughed in disbelief as he tried to reclaim his supremacy over the TV "You'd just make fun of me, in the best of cases... or you would just get all judgmental and almighty, like the slayer"

"C'mon, Spike" Xander said, this time his tone growing a bit more serious as he stopped avoiding Spike and just turned the TV off "I almost ate the principal, and was almost eaten by a breeding teacher; I promise I won't laugh or judge"

That was enough to make Spike uncomfortable in his own skin. Harris seriously wanted to know how he felt? Since when? Then, suddenly, he remembered the conversation he had had with the stranger at the Bronze. He had never taken advice from anyone, not to mention a mortal, but it struck him as funny that he actually _wanted_ to talk with Xander. 

"Ah, what the hell!" he gave up, as he glanced around the room looking for his cigarettes "Sit down, Harris, it might take a while..."

--o--

__

Another day, another terrified group of kids, he grinned as he left the classroom after his last class. If they didn't care about history, they surely would after a week of surprise assignments and random sessions of interrogation. Either that, or they would drop out of his class, which didn't particularly worry him. Better a few worthy students, than a lot of mediocre book-eaters. 

He would just pass by the library to drop the book he had borrowed the day before, and then head back home for a quick shower and dinner before he ventured again to the Bronze. The Bronze. Had a nice ring to it, come to think about it. He had to admit the Bronze Age had not been one of his favorite times ever, and he had lied when he had said he hadn't felt guilt since the eleventh century. But when did he _not_ lie?

He was abstracted in his own thoughts when he reached the library, and was surprised when he opened the door to find the blond bimbo playing around with a sharp blade. 

"Giles! You think this sword can cut Mr. Pierson's head?" she said jokingly as she waved the weapon carelessly, unaware of Adam's arrival.

__

Maybe I'm pushing the kids too much, he thought as he absorbed the joke of his head been severed, which somehow did not seem funny at all. She _was_ joking, wasn't she?

"Nice katana. And yes, it can cut my head right off in one good blow..." he said matter-of-factly as he grabbed the blade from Buffy's hand in one swift motion, before she even realized he was there "But the legal implications would be devastating for you... and I like my head right were it is"

"I... joke..." she started to stammer in embarrassment, when suddenly Giles walked into the room, reading a book as he walked, not noticing his presence.

"You were saying, Buffy?" he asked as he approached, only to take a glance at the room and find the European History professor holding a katana in one hand, and the book he had borrowed the day before in the other, while Buffy tried unsuccessfully to say something, her face very blushed.

"I am afraid I have missed something" the librarian said, the look on his face that of confusion

"I was just enjoying a quite graphic demonstration of the causes of the decadence of the modern educational system" he explained amused, throwing the sword back at Buffy tentatively, only with the porpoise of confirming a suspicion that had been building in him for the last couple of hours. It was indeed corroborated when she caught it firmly in the air, and put it down on a table. 

"What did you do, Buffy?" the librarian asked her in a reproachful tone, giving Methos the last piece of evidence he needed. _Slayer, watcher._

"I was just playing" she answered submissively, not looking up to meet Giles' scrutinizing eyes

"Forgive her, she... um... she brought this sword... um... her mother bought it... she, um, wanted to find what period it belonged to" the man tried to lie, obviously not been very good at it, but he had to give the guy some credit. It's not like they trained you for that in the watcher's academy after all... with the slayer's mission supposed to be secret and all. 

"It's a nice katana... not very old, a century give or take... where did you mother come across it?" he asked, deeply interested in seeing how much she could pull off to keep her secret safe. Truth of the matter, he _knew _where the katana came from. He had seen it, he had known the young girl who had used it... hell, he had trained her!

"Aw, an... old friend of hers... he... he collects that stuff" she stammered, although her answer was rather quicker than Rupert's

"Well, I don't mean to interrupt you two... I just came to drop by this book, thanks Rup" he said, handing the book back to Giles and judging his interrogations as enough for now "I'll be seeing you tomorrow... Maybe coffee after first class?" 

"Yes, of course... Good evening, Adam" 

--o--

As he walked towards the Bonze, fully intending to buy beer -which he usually didn't drink, he wondered why he was feeling so anxious if his day had actually worked out as he had planned. He had asked Spike to tell him what was the matter with him, as he had decided to do the night before, and Spike had told him. They had talked about it. They had been talking since morning and up until now, non-stop, and it struck Xander as weird that he hadn't felt bored or tired at all throughout the day. 

For some reason, despite how judgmental his friends might think he was, Xander didn't feel inclined to condemn the bleached vampire. Somewhere in the middle of their conversation, he had actually started wondering how accurate was the definition of a vampire as a soul-less being; Spike didn't sound all that soul-less. That thought had really scared the hell out of him, specially when he had found himself staring deep into Spike's eyes as he thought about that. Luckily the vampire had been talking, and had probably assumed Xander was staring because he was intently listening to him.

Truth was, Xander had yet not quite figured why he had been staring. He remembered thinking that Spike's eyes were not like Angelus' had been, but instead reflected a whole lot of emotions and feelings, and then without consciously planning it he had searched Spike's eyes to confirm his idea. That was the scariest part; Spike's eyes hadn't seemed at all like a foreign place. It felt like he knew those eyes, like he had been staring into them forever.

He really needed a drink, he repeated to himself, trying to block away all thoughts of the afternoon, as he walked into the Bronze to find it quite deserted. Of course that was not weird, been that it was only six o'clock, and most of the people must have been dinning at home by then. He for himself needed no food, just beer. For some reason, after been all day long with Spike, he also craved a cigarette...

__

Listen to yourself, man! Xander scolded himself as the last thought came to his mind. How had he come to _that_? He tried to push all that away as he sat at the almost empty bar, and ordered a beer. The look on the face of the bartender _told_ him he was going to get carded, and since he had no kind of ID he was just getting ready to leave, when he recognized the man approaching him.

"Hello... you" Xander greeted the man, suddenly realizing he did not know the man's name

"Adam" the man introduced himself, aware that they had not been presented "You're Spike's friend, right?" he casually asked as he took a seat next to the boy and ordered two beers, which were at once delivered

__

So it seems, he thought, but he settled for a more private "Yeah" and told the man his name, thanking him for the beer as well "Known Spike for long?" he asked, trying to get into conversation

"Last night; I kind of needed someone to distract my attention from the girls that were hitting on me before statutory rape started to sound like a good idea" the man replied as he drank a mouthful of his beer, then turned to look at him just as Xander was laughing at his little joke "There's much more to him that meets the eye, I'll tell you that much. And he seems to be very fond of you, for what he told me..." Adam added, and suddenly Xander blushed under the man's scrutinizing look. The man just grinned and took his eyes off him as he finished his beer and called for another.


	3. 03

Thanks all you guys who liked this for letting me know, I hope I don't disappoint you too much as we move along. I really don't have an explanation for _why_ things go the way they go, they just do because I'm kinda nuts, so whenever you find something that doesn't go with cannon, just remember, I'm the person writting Spike/Xander and Methos/Richie! I, as a rule, _don't_ make sense. Sorry... 

---Chapter three---

"Oh, God, will you stop brooding and come down for dinner?" the female voice came clean and loud through the massive wooden door, reminding him that locking it was no use if she wanted to be heard

"I don't dine" he barely articulated, hoping she would go but _knowing_ she wouldn't

"But _we_ do, Angel, and we want you to be there with us instead of here, brooding... you've been doing that all day, you can take a little break from it and let us all see your whiny little face"

__

Of course, he knew she wouldn't go. "Cordelia, I'm really not in the mood" he insisted, suspecting it would be of little use if she had really made up her mind to get him out of the room

"Fine, Angel, you win" she replied, but the prospect was too good for him to believe it "I'll just get Gunn to break the door open, and then we'll have dinner here with you, _in your room_" her voice pierced through his ears, and of course, _she would_ do that unless he went out. 

"Okay, _you_ win Cordy" he whispered, and slowly walked to the door, knowing full well she wouldn't go anywhere until he opened it.

"Good choice" she congratulated him, planting a soft little kiss on his lips, as he opened the door "C'mon, the food is going to get cold... and don't think you'll get away from me another night without telling me what the matter with you is... this time" she sighed as she grabbed hold of his hand and carried him downstairs

--o--

__

Right on the sensitive spot, Methos thought as he saw the boy get a flushed face after his comment. Truth of the matter, Spike had not once mentioned the boy's name during their conversation the night before, nor had he made any clear reference to him during their talk. Still, after 5000 years, he was quite a good judge when it came to implied connotations, and the way the boy had greeted the vampire last night, altogether with his comments –which proved he indeed knew of Spike's nature- suggested that _this_ was the person the vampire had grown attached to. 

"Are you meeting Spike here?" he asked Xander after a respectful silence intended to put the boy at ease again

"Maybe later..." he retorted at once, a bit nervous still, and perhaps a bit tipsy from the beer he obviously did not consume usually "I don't know what you two were talking about last night when I arrived, but he was really open with me this morning, you know? He's been living in my place for a while, and somewhat we get along, but we never really _talk_. However, last night when you left he kind of made it obvious to me that he wanted to talk, so, you know, this morning when he woke up I started asking him to tell me what was wrong... and... and, he did. You know. That's weird. He's not the talkie kind..."

"Maybe he is, but he's not used to people actually listening to him..." Methos interrupted the boy, who looked more and more nervous by the minute "It's great that he's got you, because he sure seems one guy who needs to be understood"

"Yeah, I know..." Xander said after a minute's silence "He's not really half as bad as he seems... sometimes I just wish people would stop treating him like he's guilty of everything that is wrong in the world..." he paused, and asked the bartender for another beer "He may not be the nicest guy around... well, he's not nice at all..." he corrected himself, bringing a smile to Methos' lips "But he's been through a lot, and you know, things that happen to you can really turn you into something you don't really want to be..."

"I'll drink to that" Methos exclaimed as he finished his drink

--o--

Well, sure as hell this hadn't been his usual day. Until last night he had felt so alone, so empty... He had had people he liked, and some of them mildly liked him back. But today he had realized he had a friend. 

He had spent months living with Harris, mostly been cynical around the clock, and usually making fun of the boy's innate silliness. He had heard his problems and his sorrows one and a million times, at first really annoyed that he had to put up with that in exchange for shelter and blood, and then eventually growing used to it, even sympathizing with the boy. But today had been more than he had ever expected... it had been more than he even thought he deserved.

Harris had listened to him! Truth be known, he had already started finding a scary comfort in knowing of the boy's deepest thoughts and feeling, like no other of his friends knew, but he had never even imagined Xander might want to hear _his_. He was the bad guy, right? The soul-less, evil vampire, who was not accepted as a part of the team, but acted rather as a war machine... _kill the bad guys, but can't and celebrate afterwards_. 

It had crossed his mind at first that Xander was just acting out of politeness, asking what was wrong with him without really wanting to know. But then Xander was never polite... that was his charm, in a way. He was rude and goofy, and spoke up his mind without considering the repercussions. But there was more to it than the scoobies acknowledged. 

He liked _that_ Xander, the Xander that from time to time said wise things, the same one that had given him advise that day, and had intently listened to all he had had to say, making all the right connections, and getting to all the right conclusions. He might not have a 130 IQ, or super-strength, or knowledge of demons and black arts, but he surely knew something that was more important that all of that; he knew people.

__

If you don't stop that line of thought, you're gonna end up thinking the guy's cute, he laughed, slightly uncomfortable with the way Xander's trust impacted on him. Been emotional about things, like he was been now, had resulted bad for him in the past, more than once. He had gotten hurt, and he wished it had only been physically. 

Almost without realizing it, he had walked into the Bronze. It was crowded, and more teenagers than he liked to see at once were dancing around and chatting animatedly as he pushed pass them towards the bar. He spotted the stranger from the night before, and when he got close enough he realized he was having a conversation with Xander. Suddenly he felt the urge to run away from the place, but the absurdity of the feeling made him grin.

Without slowing his paces he approached them, dismissing that unexplainable anxiety he suddenly felt. He was surprised to overhear a part of the talk before the men noticed him.

"You know, Adam" Xander was saying, sounding somewhat like he had something inside of his mouth that prevented him from speaking properly "As scary as it sounds, I'm starting to feel closer to Spike than to my friends..."

Spike's heart would have stopped at that, if it had been beating in the first place. He hadn't even realized he had come to an abrupt halt, and was not moving anymore, when suddenly the stranger looked up and spotted him. 

"Speaking of the devil..." he grinned, and Xander immediately turned around, his eyes immediately resting on Spike's for a split second before he looked away.

__

No running away, then. It took all his strength to push away the unpleasant sensation that had come over him, but he managed to do it successfully before reaching the two guys, so that by the time he was close enough to greet them he had regained his bad-ass composure. 

"You two kids had fun without me?" he asked casually, taking the stool at the stranger's side, for some reason uncomfortable with the though of sitting next to Xander 

"Define fun" the stranger, _Adam_, grinned as he indicated the Harris kid and a few empty beer bottles "It was a mistake to think that he could keep up with me... you should take him home before he starts throwing up again"

"But I just got here!" Spike complained childishly, only to take a good look at Xander and realize he _really_ needed to go home. He had never seen Xander drunk before, not to mention _this_ drunk. 

"It's ok, Spike, you don't have to leave..." Xander said in his unfamiliar drunkard manner, as he tried to stand up on his own with little success.

"Oh, c'mon you wanker! I'll take you home!" Spike sighed as he walked to Xander and helped him steady himself "See you later, Adam" Spike told the man, who raised his beer as a toast while they walked away

--o--

"It's okay, Spike, you don't have to leave" he said, his voice sounding incredibly stupid even to himself. He tried to stand up and leave, aware in some level that his drunkenness must be bothering Spike, and would eventually ruin his night. If you can only go out at night, it's not fair that a drunken kid ruins it for you.

"Oh, c'mon you wanker! I'll take you home!" Spike exclaimed, putting his arm around Xander's shoulders to help him walk "See you later, Adam" he said as he walked him out and threw him into the first cab they came across.

The taxi was a nightmare come true until Spike realized he must be feeling sick and opened his window. The fresh air in his face made him feel a little bit better, or at least not any more like his guts were coming up to his mouth. He could almost feel Spike's eyes resting on him, watching him. He had no idea how he looked, but he was sure it wasn't anything like alright, since his head was spinning and he had already puked twice, Adam holding his forehead while he knelt in front of the toilette. 

When the car pulled over it shocked him, even in his improved yet still bad state of drunkenness, that Spike pulled some bills from his own pocket and paid the cabby. Then the vampire helped him out of the vehicle, and putting his arm around him in the same manner as before helped him to the door, opening it carefully not to make any noises that would awaken anyone.

When they got to the bedroom Xander at once tried to go to the bed, but Spike stopped him and instead helped him sit in the couch which served as his own bed. 

"You don't wanna lay down, Harris, _believe me_" he told him as left the room, only to come back an instant later with a bottle of water "You don't have to drink it now, just wait until you feel like it" he said as he sat next to him in the couch, amazingly nothing like mockery in his tone.

After a few minutes, when he started feeling a little better, he looked up to find the vampire staring at him with a concerned look in his eyes. Just seeing the way he was now reminded Xander of his earlier thought about how Spike did not seem monstrous and soul-less as Angelus had. Not even Angel, soul in and all, had ever had eyes so full of humanity as the blonde's.

"Stop looking at me like you want a shag" Spike hissed, obviously uncomfortable with his staring "That's the second time in twenty-four hours that I catch you looking at me like that, and believe me, you don't want me acting on it"

He looked away immediately, deeply embarrassed, the heat rising to his face letting him know that he had flushed. He was still too drunk to think whether he was embarrassed for staring, of for been caught while doing it. "You're a pig, Spike" he said, his words much more discernible after the ride home "And you were staring too"

"Yeah, well, I didn't say _I_ didn't want a shag" 

--o--

"Stop looking at me like you want a shag. That's the second time in twenty-four hours that I catch you looking at me like that, and believe me, you don't want me acting on it" he said without even thinking, instantly regretting that he had uttered those words.

It _was_ true that he had already caught Xander staring in a very similar way, earlier that day. It was also true that, unlike most drunk people, the boy looked even beautiful in his state, his gestures those of a sleepy person rather than a drunkard. But his exclamation had come out all on itself, and he hadn't even thought about such a thing before the moment he spoke those despicable words. 

"You're a pig, Spike" Xander murmured, his pronunciation denoting the alcohol was slowly wearing out "And you were staring too" he added after a brief pause, his face deeply blushed.

"Yeah, well, I didn't say _I_ didn't want a shag" he responded, immediately hoping the boy was drunk enough not to remember that in the morning "Maybe it's time you go to bed, so we can get some sleep... I'm tired, and you're in my couch" he said, hoping the sarcasm in his voice would erase the previous statement, as he pulled Xander to his feet and helped him to the bed, barely holding his arm, since he was already walking better by then.

Once he helped him sit in bed, he turned back to his couch without even looking back, somewhat afraid that his thoughtless comments might have ruined the relationship they had, which he had grown to appreciate very much of late. He was reticent when he heard Xander calling his name, and he would have gladly let it pass if the boy hadn't called again.

"What?" he asked as he turned to face him, bad-ass mode on. However, it wore off as soon as he heard the reply;

"Come here... I want to talk, I don't want you to be mad at me" Xander said, officially the first time in a long time that someone even _cared_ if Spike was angry "You're my best friend..."

That did it. He knew Xander was the person he felt more attached to in the world right now, but the idea that Harris felt the same way about him made him put down all his defenses, and he just headed back towards the bed and sat next to him.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable... I know you get all asshole-like when you're pissed" Xander apologized, although he didn't look at him while he spoke "I don't know what's wrong with me, Spike. I've always known you were hot, you know, for women" he hurried to explain "I just don't know when _I_ started thinking you were hot"

"You're just drunk, Harris. You'll be back to hating me in the morning" he said soothingly, not really sure if he meant to convince the boy, or himself 

"I wasn't drunk this morning Spike, and when I stared at you in the morning I felt exactly as I felt a minute ago"

"Which is?" he asked, once more regretting his words at the same time he finished saying them. However, he didn't have much time to dwell on it, as hardly a blink of an eye after he had spoken he found Xander's lips tentatively caressing his own.

__

Oh my God, was all that came to mind as he felt suddenly urged to respond to that shy kiss, brushing Xander's lips with his own reassuringly as he slid a hand around the boy's waist.

At first he though Xander would freak out at once and pull away, but soon he realized that was not going to happen. In the same insecure fashion, the boy opened his lips and timidly caressed Spike's with his tongue. That was all it took. Suddenly they were kissing openly, Xander's tongue exploring his mouth with a hunger that matched his own, their hands helplessly roaming around each other's bodies. 

All conscious thoughts were vanished as they gave up to the moment, sliding closer to one another until their legs were interwoven and their chests were tightly pressed together in a passionate embrace, their mouths battling incessantly as the human's breath became labored. It took all the willpower he had left to break the kiss, gasping for unnecessary breath as he stared into Xander's eyes, inflamed with the same passion as his own.

"I can't do this, Xander" he said, pulling away from his partner's arms "I'm taking advantage of you... you're gonna regret this in the morning"

"It _is_ morning already" was all the other man could reply as he pulled the vampire back into his arms "But I understand" he continued, strangely sobered after the adrenaline rush of the moment before "Would you sleep with me, at least? Just hold me..." he asked, his eyes begging when the blonde looked up to meet his gaze "I want you to hold me"

--o--

Today was presumably going to be a good day, he thought as he stirred in bed and realized that, for once, he was up early. That would leave him time to take a proper shower and shave carefully. Even if it healed instantly, he wasn't much fond of cutting himself; it itched unpleasantly. 

As he drank his morning coffee he read the news and checked his email, pleased to find word from Joe, confirming he would arrive around noon. There was also a long email from Mac, telling him in detail of everything that went on in Seacouver, about the dojo becoming quite a trendy spot, and about Joe leaving him in charge of his bar while he was gone to visit him. The highlander's words were friendly and spontaneous, as much as he could tell, and it made him happy to see the distance he had put between them had not been misinterpreted. 

He made it to campus some twelve minutes before his first class, actually carrying something in his hands for once, and in quite good spirits. The thought of passing by the library to say hello to Rupert seemed like a good idea, but he decided against it when he noticed the _slayer_ and her redheaded friend were heading there. He preferred to be discreet and leave them to their own business. 

He decided then to just head to his classroom and wait there until all his students arrived, which should be interesting for a change. Hopefully someone might have a question or two about last class, and he would pass time that way until it was time to start the lecture. However, all his plans and positive thoughts were dismissed as he felt the presence of another immortal. Right then, his young secretary ran towards him;

"Mr. Pierson, I knew you wouldn't drop by the office before your first class, so I came here to look for you..." she said as she made a great effort to bring air into her lungs, obviously agitated from the run "You have a new student, his situation here is rather irregular, his uncle worked everything out so he could start immediately and don't lose this semester, and he specifically required that he was placed in _your_ class... I have his file back at the office if you want it"

"Thanks, April, I'll just take a look at it later..." he responded as nicely as he could, amused at how exited this girl seemed to be about her job. If his students were half as responsible as her, he wouldn't be so constantly tempted to make their semester a living hell.

She smiled and went back the way she had come, obviously proud of how good a secretary she was. However, he had already _known_ he had a new student, and was not really thrilled at the idea. Having an immortal as a student was very much against his rules of been inconspicuous, and he just hoped the other immortal was really young, and interested in learning rather than hunting for his head.

As he entered the classroom he immediately spotted his new student. He knew him, and a sigh of relief escaped his lips as he realized he was in no real danger. Unless the guy had gone nuts since they had met, but it was hardly possible. And even if the guy _had_ lost his mind, he was no real adversary for 5000 years of experience, never mind he was rather out of practice of late. Besides, he had a quite formed idea of how he had ended up in his class.

Another ten students were already there as well, socializing with each other, and they all looked rather surprised to see him that early, _and_ carrying books. Rather than surprised, most of them looked terrified. Well, he knew he had been rather hard on the kids, but since his good mood was returning he decided to give them a soft treatment for once, and let them get away without research work.

The rest of his students didn't take long to show up as well, and he was pleased to start his class right on schedule, for a change, realizing he would have more time than usual to pick at the kid's brains. To improve even more his already good mood, he realized the students were starting to _get it_, and voluntarily offered opinions on the subjects he treated, and presented satisfactory material to complement his lecture. 

--o--

She had the first hours of the morning free because Professor Nichols' mother had died and he had gone to Los Angeles for the funeral. Willow and Buffy had just left for their European History class, which Willow both loved and hated. She was constantly speaking about how great Mr. Pierson was, and how much he seemed to know about everything, and how he seemed to appreciate her work. However, she was also very scared of him in a way, and that morning in particular she had been very nervous after learning about how he had walked into the library the day before, when Buffy had been joking about killing him.

After she had left the library along with the girls, and wished Willow the best of lucks in her class, she had planned to go get some breakfast, which they had missed, but decided to put that off when she saw Xander walking around the halls, looking both confused at the foreign building and pretty nervous for some reason she ignored.

"Tara!" he called out when he saw her, quite effusively even though they were not actually close friends

"Hi Xander" she said as he came closer "Buffy and Willow just went to class a minute ago"

"Great" he sighed, which seemed rather confusing to her "Actually, I wanted to talk to you... can we go somewhere?"

"Sure" she accepted, hoping she could help with whatever was keeping the boy restless "Come on, let's get out of the hallways... it's kind of insane in here" she offered, glad that he seemed to like the idea, and led him out of the building. 

They walked in silence, Xander toying with his fingers nervously all the time, without saying a word, until they were far enough from the noisy crowd of students. When they found a picnic table they sat, and she waited until he finally decided to talk;

"I just wanted to talk to you, because, you know, you're Willow's..." he said awkwardly, obviously not comfortable with the subject "Well, you know, you're dating her..." 

"Yes, we really like each other" she politely replied. She had noticed Xander had not been really comfortable with the idea of Willow dating a girl, but she had just dismissed it as the normal concern of a friend who thought she might be making a mistake, and the boy had seemed to adapt just fine to their relationship in the end. 

"Yeah, I know" he hurried to assure her "I just wanted to ask you, you know... Have you always been a... I mean, have you always liked girls... in that way?" he stammered

"Well, since I was pretty young..." she replied, although she was not very sure where this whole questioning was going. 

"Okay, but how did you know that's what you wanted... I mean, how you made sure you were not mistaken..." he insisted, obviously unable to find the words he meant to use. The only logical explanation to this conversation was that Xander thought Willow was making a mistake by going out with her, but it didn't really sound like that either.

"You think Willow is making a mistake?" she tentatively asked

"This is not about Will" he answered, all of a sudden sounding really self-confident "It's about me"

"Oh" was all she could say, more than surprised to hear that; she must have blushed, because her face felt really hot at the time. The thought had never even occurred to her.

"Please, just say something..." he all but begged, all apparent self-possession gone 

"I don't know what to say..." she whispered, embarrassed that she had missed his point from the beginning when it had been rather obvious "Like, is there a boy you feel attracted to?"

"Shit, no. I mean, yes. I mean, _attracted to_ is gross understatement, considering that I had his tongue down my throat last night!" he snapped

"Oh..." was again he best choice for a reply.


	4. 04

Well, at least that hideous class was improving, she thought as she took her seat next to Willow in the front row, and noticed the new guy. She knew she had never seen him before around campus, or she would have remembered. And the fact that he was obviously from out of town added interest to him, because it made him potentially _normal_. 

After Riley her social life had been terrible, and decreasing. Which was not necessarily a bad thing, considering that half of Sunnydale's population was some kind of demonic being or another, half of them attracted to the mystic energy of the Hellmouth, and the other half attracted by the prospect of killing her. Riley hadn't been all that bad come to think about it, if one thought of Angel as a parameter. At least Riley had not nailed a puppy anywhere.

She should be paying more attention to class, but she really didn't like History, and Mr. Pierson didn't really like her. Not that one could blame him. If sleeping her way through his classes had not been enough, her joke about decapitating him surely hadn't made a good impression. He would probably flunk her anyway, so she might as well make some good use of the wasted time.

The new guy looked really good. About their same age, with blond hair and blue eyes, and quite hot in a black sweater and black coat. The leather coat tipped her on the fact that he was obviously not living at the dorms. That meant it would be harder to _casually_ bump into him, but it also was good because she would keep her privacy. She had to stop thinking about that when Willow's elbow unexpectedly hit her in the ribs.

"Snoozer, do you agree with your friend?" Mr. Pierson asked, apparently out of nowhere, but when she turned her attention to him she realized he had been talking with Willow about something and was now asking her, _Snoozer_, to comment on it. 

"Ah, yeah, sure..." she stammered, aware that she had no idea of what they had been talking about. Fortunately he did not seem to care for further elaboration, but simply grinned and turned to question some other student. He was obviously just making a point.

__

Snoozer. That's a nickname, she thought as she went back to ignoring the lecture. _Buffy Snoozer Summers_, had a nice ring to it. Then it came to her that he had just called her that in front of the whole class, and pretty embarrassed she turned to look at the new guy, who had a wide smile on his face as he looked back at her. _Well done, Snoozer_, she congratulated herself.

--o--

They had been talking for an hour, give or take, and despite their terrible start he had actually managed to connect with her after the initial uneasiness had passed. They had never really talked all that much, and he had even resented her a little when she started seeing Will, but now that he needed to talk she had been the first person he had thought of. 

Of course he couldn't have gone to Willow, it would have been _way_ too eerie, and he didn't know anyone else in town who could possibly understand how he felt right now. Still, the first thing he had thought of when he had awakened that morning in Spike's arms was that he needed to tell someone and try and make some sense of the way he was feeling. And, miraculously, that person had been Tara.

"So how did it feel when you kissed him? Did it feel _right_?" she asked at last, when they were already heading back to the building they had originally come from. 

It had taken him longer than he would have thought to explain things, specially when the person he had kissed was no other than Spike. At first he had tried to avoid mentioning his name, but then he had realized it was impossible to explain what was happening to him unless he trusted Tara with that information. After all, he had not fallen for some guy at the Bronze. It was Spike. 

Spike, who had lived with him for a while, heard all of his sorrows over and over again, and had recently surprised him with the depth and quantity of sorrows and regrets he himself had. It would have never happened if they had not shared what they had shared, and it was impossible to explain anything without telling the _whole_ story. 

So he had trusted Tara, after forcing her to swear over and over again to keep everything to herself. He had told her pretty much the way things were, at least the way they were for him, and he had felt a terrible relief to see she was actually listening and even understanding him.

"Yeah, I mean, I was fully aware that it was Spike, but it just felt so right. That's the word. Terrifyingly right. And I don't know what could have happened if he didn't stop me, I mean..." he couldn't really continue; he was talking with a girl, and a girl he hadn't even called _friend_ until this morning. 

"I know, it may get scary" she reassured him "Do you honestly trust Spike?" she asked, trying to avoid sounding judgmental although obviously concerned 

"Yeah, I mean, I fell asleep cuddling with a vampire! If that's not trust then what the hell is it!" he snapped, instantly regretting to be so loud when he realized they were already entering the building. Luckily nobody seemed to have heard.

--o--

__

Snoozer. Didn't sound as bad as some nicknames he had given people in 5000 years of life. Besides, it had been the first thing that had come into mind when he had been in the verge of calling her _Slayer_. She was pretty annoying, not to mention ignorant, and the only comfort he could find in the situation was that she didn't find him all that interesting either. That was good, because been in the spotlight is never good when a it comes to a paranoid slayer. And _all_ slayers are more or less paranoid. 

He left the classroom the last, as usual, and couldn't help but grin as he saw the young immortal breaking the ice with the slayer and her friend. Well, he should have expected that much. The kid couldn't help himself when he was around pretty girls, and he had quite the looks too, so the girls did hardly ever complain. When the kid looked up at him as he passed them by, he simply nodded in acknowledgment, and left him to his games. He didn't have anything to say to the kid anyway, so why spoil his fun.

He was on his way to the library, where he had agreed to meet Rupert, when before his eyes appeared Xander and the slayer's other friend, walking at a slow pace as they talked in whispers. When the boy saw him he smiled, and headed towards him.

"Hi, Adam!" he called out with a smile "You go here?" he asked good-naturedly 

"One could say so" he smiled at the understatement "I take it you got home in one piece last night..." 

"Yeah, thanks for holding my head by the way..." he blushed, casting a brief glance at the girl with him, obviously not comfortable with the way he had been the night before

"No problem Xander, I trust you would have done the same for me..." he assured him. He really wanted to ask about things with Spike, since he knew there was something there, but the time didn't seem pertinent. 

"You know Tara?" the boy tried to change the subject, as if he had known what was on his mind

"I've seen her around, yes, she's a friend of some of my students, right?" he asked her, to which she nodded shyly 

"What? You _teach_ here?" Xander asked incredulous 

"Yeah, European History" he grinned "Just don't go around saying I'm a nice guy or I'll lose the little respect these kids have for me" he said jokingly "I've got to run, I have some things to do before my next class" he said as a goodbye "I'll see you around, Xander" 

__

Just when had he become so sociable?, he thought as he left the two kids behind and headed for the library, amazed at how easily a two-hundred years custom could be discarded. Loneliness did hardly look like an option anymore. 

--o--

"So you finally got what you wanted, right?" Joe asked amusedly as he drank his coffee "Tell me, Rupert, what is it like to be a slayer's watcher?"

"It's not what I expected, you know old friend..." he replied "I've grown attached to her, and it hurts to know that she –and her friends- may get killed any time"

They had been cheerfully talking for little less than an hour, and he had been very happy that Joe still remembered him fondly after so many years; he thought of Joe in the same way, and had been very excited when he had gotten word from him telling of his upcoming visit to Sunnydale. It had been a wonderful surprise to see the other watcher coming into his library that morning...

"I know. You and I, we were never the kind of guys that followed rules, uh Rupert?" Joe sighed "You let the slayer's friends get involved, grew fond of them, now you live worrying about each of them constantly... You know, the immortal I watch has become one of my best friends... so much for keeping a healthy distance myself. Every time he or one of his circle of friends gets challenged I find myself sitting on the edge of my chair until it's over..."

"I know the feeling... everything was quite easier back at the academy, when you only had to sit there, and read the things that long-dead watchers had written, hoping one day you would be one of them..." he said, but couldn't finish the sentence because the door was opened.

"Joe! You're here already! I can't believe it" a joyful Adam all but shouted as he entered the library and held the other man in a tight grip "I thought you said at noon..." he added as he released Joe

"Well, I had originally thought of stopping by to say hello to my old friend Rupert before I met you, since you both work in the same place... you know each other, right?" the bearded man asked

"Sure, how are you doing Rup?" Adam asked politely, and also more than a little curious "How did you two come to know each other?"

"Oh, it's a long story..." he replied, trying to say as little as possible "We went to the university together, and we formed this rock n' roll band... I didn't imagine you were Joe's friend in town" he had to admit 

"He's a fellow watcher" Joe explained, but Adam did not seem much pleased about that

"_Was_" he hurried to correct his friend, showing a tattoo-free wrist to make his point

"Yeah well, you may think about getting it done again Adam, because I have a nice job for you..."

--o--

"You have _got_ to be kidding!" Methos exclaimed indignant as they left the library, having agreed to meet Rupert at his place for dinner at six o'clock. 

"Come on, Adam, it's a good deed... what's a new protegee for someone five thousand years old?" he insisted "After that nasty mass accident the kid cannot really show up in Seacouver again, not in a hundred years at least... and since his watcher died there -along with some other fifty people- I thought it might be a good idea to assign you as his watcher. That way you can keep an eye on him without having anyone getting suspicious about you"

"Joe, you're missing the fact that _I don't want_ to be Richie's guardian angel!" the ancient one complained "I don't even know the kid all that much!"

"I know, but Mac cares a lot about him, and it was his idea in the first place that you watched over him for a while. Did he not tell you about it?"

"No!" the immortal said annoyed "One day I'm a bastard because I rode with the horseman, and now I have to watch over his socially dead student? Forget about it, Joe!"

"You don't have to baby-sit him, Adam!" he kept pushing, having come completely prepared for a display such as this "Just be there if he needs you..."

He was going to insist some more, but then he noticed Richie was only a few feet away from them, cheerfully chatting with a couple of teenager girls. It shouldn't have surprised him that Methos hurried his steps towards the group and, with a dry and commanding voice, addressed the boy;

"You, Dawson. Office, now" he demanded, and then started walking towards his office barely waiting for Joe to follow, or for the kid to even react. 

He wasn't either shocked nor angry, because he knew how Methos loved his freedom and detachment from the immortal world, and he had _known_ he wasn't going to be big on this idea. But he had promised Mac to try, he reminded himself as he followed the oldest immortal into his office. Shortly thereafter Richie came in as well, closing the door behind his back.

"You know, there was really no need to embarrass me like that Adam!" he complained as he dropped his notebook on top of the other immortal's desk and let himself drop on a chair "This is _not_ my idea of a fun vacation either! C'mon, Adam, you know how Mac is... he wanted me to go to collage, I said no, then I got in that damn car crash and suddenly I'm here"

"You have a sword?" was all Adam said in reply, to which the blond nodded, pulling a broadsword from his coat "Oh, what the fuck..." the older immortal conceded, sighing in resignation "Just call me Mr. Pierson if there's other people, and try not to die, permanently"

--o--

She had positively enjoyed the European History class. Mr. Pierson, despite his youth and his usual lateness, had lived up to her expectations. She had decided to take European History because she was fascinated by history, and it would eventually allow her to be more helpful to Giles when they were researching. However, she wasn't precisely satisfied with the way _Buffy_ was handling the class.

She had insisted that Buffy didn't have to follow her around forever, and she could chose what classes she wanted to take, because she had suspected her friend would not be very interested in History. And of course, she had been showing how uninterested she was in the class from day one, making Mr. Pierson notice the both of them way too much for her to feel comfortable. 

That day, however, Buffy _had_ proved interested. Not about the class, but rather about the new student. As soon as Mr. Pierson had dismissed the class Buffy had forced her to go welcome the new guy, whom she insisted must be from out of town. The newbie, a boy with strawberry blond hair and blue eyes, clad in a black leather coat, had looked friendly and well predisposed when they had gone to greet him.

They had talked for a while, introducing themselves and offering help in anything possible, from schoolwork to Sunnydale tours. Richie Dawson was the guy's name, and he had just moved to California with his uncle Joe. He was very extrovert and friendly enough, and she liked him instantly –not the way Buffy liked him, of course. They were actually planning to meet at the Bronze that night when suddenly Mr. Pierson came walking towards them, followed by an older man with a cane.

"You, Dawson. Office, now" had been all his words before he walked right pass them and into his office, the other man right behind him.

"That would be uncle Joe getting me to meet the teachers..." he said jokingly "Well, I'll see you girls later... maybe Bronze, after dinner?" he said as a goodbye, barely waiting for the to reply as he hurried towards Mr. Pierson's office, closing the door behind him as he entered.

"Gee, I can live without that kind of help!" Buffy exclaimed as they walked away, referring to the way Mr. Pierson had seemed less than enthusiastic about meeting the new student.

--o--

He had no idea what the hell he was going to do now. Of course, he had _known_ things could not go back to be the way they had been before. For better or for worse. Lying in bed, with Xander asleep in his arms, his mind had been racing with hypothesis of how their relationship would evolve –or survive- from there on. He hadn't been able to sleep for most of the night, and when he had finally fallen asleep it had been exclusively out of exhaustion.

It had felt so good to hold Xander as he slept, to feel him breathing against his own chest; that warm body that relaxed fearlessly under the cold grip of his dead arms like no other had before. He wanted Xander. He had wanted him before, of course, but now that he had had a taste of what it could be, he couldn't stop thinking about him. The way he had looked into his eyes before he had kissed him, the way the boy's warm lips had caressed his, the way Xander's strong body had felt against his own...

But on top of all that, more important than anything, was the fear. Xander had been gone when he had awaken. What did that mean? He knew what it meant, but he didn't want to think of that. _It had been a mistake_. Xander was his best friend, his only friend in the world; he had had people he had called friends before, but nobody had ever been his friend quite in this way. And now they wouldn't be friends anymore, and all thanks to alcohol and his weakness. He _could_ have pulled away, could have gone back to the couch, but he had wanted it so badly... 

He didn't know what to do. He wanted to wait here, wait until Xander returned, but he feared the boy's reaction. He didn't know what his friend had been feeling that morning, when he had left the bed quietly and gone out. Confusion? Anger? Disgust? Disappointment? So many emotions which he was not used to deal with... Drusilla had never doubted what she wanted, even if it was an atrocity; she hadn't been angry or disgusted when her Sire had taken her by force; and she had only been disappointed in _him_, because there had come a point when he hadn't been able to keep up.

He wished he could go back to be the way he was. Before he had come to Sunnydale, he had been happy with Drusilla. At least what he called happy until then. He had grown tired of Angelus and his mind games, his way of forcing him into things he really did not want to do, the way he hurt him and raped him when he didn't want to give in to his games. But then with Drusilla, alone in the world, everything had been so simple.

Dru took what she wanted, and it had been so easy for him to adapt to that. He had lived decades bringing suffering and death, without even caring, and he had found such a release in that... and all it had taken to change was a bunch of teenagers and a stupid chip in his head. By the time the initiative had taken him he had already started changing, started questioning himself, starting doubting the ways he had called his own. 

Seeing them had done that to him. Seeing the way they protected each other, cared for each other, comforted each other when things went wrong. He had wanted that. And he had finally found it, hadn't he? With Xander. Xander had forgiven him for all the things he had done to them, at least for what mattered. Xander had told him his secrets, his concerns, and had even been willing to hear his own. And how he had paid him back for that? He had taken advantage of his drunkenness.

It didn't matter how many times he reminded himself of the fact that it had been Xander the one who had started it, and he had stopped him before it went any further. It was all the same. It was his fault, because that's what he did. He was Spike, the vampire. He had killed, maimed, tortured, brought chaos. And now he was doing just that, bringing chaos, proving he was unworthy. 

And he had been unworthy for Angelus as well, too soft for the older vampire. He had tried to please him, and all he had gotten was mockery and punishment. In the beginning, when Angelus told him he was a weak and useless waste of blood, he had cried. They had all made fun of him, they had all enjoyed torturing him to _bring some sense into him_. In the end, he had learnt to project it... all the pain and all the humiliation that was caused to him, he would bring upon others, random people he found on the streets.

He laughed. He would like to see Xander assimilating _that_ one. Just one more proof of how unworthy he was of the boy's care, and how unworthy he had ever been of his kind's respect. Stuck between two worlds he was, and he was no good to either one of them.

--o--

Well, at least the _rest_ of his day had not been all that bad. Most the students had paid mild attention to his lectures, and after MacLeod's surprise gift he had not felt much in the mood to interrogate them so badly. He was very happy that Joe was in town, and with the prospect of staying for a while –to make sure Richie adapted to the place. On the other hand, the kid's arrival had been like a kick in the balls. 

He had nothing against the young immortal –all the contrary. He had felt attracted to the bastard since very much the first time he had seen him, and he had had to make a real effort not to act on it. Mac would have surely taken his head without a second thought if he had dared to insinuate anything _indecent_ to the kid, not to mention make a move on him. He would still take his head now, probably. 

The real issue was not even that, for he was very good at disappearing if Mac indeed claimed his head; the problem was, the kid was obviously not so inclined. For the time he had known him, he had seen Richie Ryan do very little other than ride his bike and chase skirts. And even more of the late. And now, having him under his tutelage? That would be like a hideous reminder of one of the few things Methos had never had, and _could_ never have.

But for now, he would relax and take things easy. He was new in town, and there were surely plenty women and men whom he could cherish and enjoy –mind and body. He didn't need this half-raised kid to ruin his perfect runaway adventure, and he wouldn't let this minor unexpected inconvenience to stop him from relishing his stay at Sunnydale.

By the time he got to Rupert's house –late, for a change- Joe was already there, _with_ Richie. Well, that was expected, since he was supposedly his nephew, but he wouldn't let this bother him. He loved Joe, whom he considered his only true friend after Don's death, and he liked Rupert well enough not to coward away because of a blond babe.

"Well, I had told Rupert to put dinner off for another hour..." Joe exclaimed cheerfully as he entered the librarian's house "It's a miracle you show up this early!"

"Anything for you, Joe" he grinned as he removed his coat and carefully placed it over a small end-table. He had enough sense not to carry a sword into the slayer's watcher's home, but he _had_ brought a gun and a smaller blade, and he didn't want Rupert to find them. As an old survivor, he couldn't feel comfortable if unarmed. 

"Have a seat, Adam" their host offered, bringing about a bottle of Scotch "Would you care for a drink before dinner?"

"Always" he answered appreciatively as the man poured him a drink and delivered the glass "I am afraid I have nothing non-alcoholic that you may be interested in..." the librarian told Richie apologetically, which seemed ironic to Methos since the kid was already 22 in age, if not in appearance. 

"Here kid" he told the blonde teasingly, offering him some pocket change "Go buy yourself a soda..." to which the other immortal replied with a grin, taking the offered money;

"Thanks Adam, I don't want a soda but I could use a pack of cigarettes"

"Since when do you smoke?" he asked amusedly

"I've always smoked..." the kid instantly answered as he grabbed his coat

"I've never seen you smoke..." he insisted

"Well, I'm a smoker" Richie concluded, reminding him of a funny sketch the kid had probably seen as well.

"Okay, George, suit yourself..." he told the kid as he was leaving the room, which caused the blonde to smile in response before he went out. 

"You were acquainted with Joe's nephew?" the librarian asked casually as he poured the gathered men another drink

"We don't really know each other" he replied offhandedly "But I've been roaming around Joe for a while, so I've seen the kid before..." he concluded, avoiding to mention just _how much_ he had seen the kid, and what parts he had been looking at.

--o--

As he looked up the stairs where Cordelia had disappeared a while ago, he couldn't help but overhear a little through-the-door conversation between her and Angel. The souled vampire had been avoiding them for weeks, locking himself in his bedroom for most of the time, only agreeing to come down for dinner, and not without a daily session of inverse psychology masterly carried out by Cordy. When they asked what was wrong, he said 'nothing'.

As the older of the group, however, he _knew_ something was disturbing Angel. A lot of things could be said about the vampire, and broody was certainly the first thing that came to mind when one tried to define his character, but he was not usually one to leave his friends unattended, working all by themselves. Putting themselves on harm's way. There was definitely something going on in Angel's mind, and whatever it was it could be no good.

As for Cordelia, that was a delicate matter all on itself. She was in a very complicated stage of her life; after her family had lost all of their money, she had moved to Los Angeles to try her luck as an actress, and had ended up becoming an assistant to an undead detective, connected to the visions from the Powers That Be as the only tangible memory of one whom she had loved and hadn't had the chance to tell him how she had felt. 

Now, for several months, she had been stuck in a strange and absorbing relationship with the undead detective himself, carrying all of the responsibilities of a wife and enjoying not even the minimal fraction of what a first date gets. She fetched him blood, forced him out of his bedroom when he was _particularly_ broody, insisted that he looked on the matter if she had a vision which she thought the rest of them couldn't handle alone, and even sat for hours with him, talking nonsense so he would temporarily take his mind off the brooding. 

In the beginning Angel had been attentive and caring, but in the last couple of weeks he had secluded himself so completely that not even Cordelia had been able to break through his barriers. Emotional _and_ physical, if one counted the massive door he kept almost continuously locked against the world. He had even suggested to contact fellow ex-watcher Rupert Giles, back in Sunnydale, but Cordelia had begged him not to get the slayer involved, and he had given in without a fight.

"Where are Fred and Gunn?" Cordelia asked him as she came back down, triumphal, with Angel on her arm 

"They went to the movies, abusing of the fact that you haven't had a vision in days..." he replied, his mind elsewhere. He barely acknowledged Angel as he uttered a dead-like "Hello Wes" before going into the kitchen for his blood mug. Something was not right, and no sooner he found out what it was he _would_ call Giles.

--o--

"...and then I thought he had been in Bangladesh, because I heard secondhand that a very old immortal had been decapitated by an unknown immortal with awesome fighting skills, and when I got there it turned out that the other guy was Sergey Schaterbatsky, a very well recorded immortal whose watcher had been _drunk_ at the time of the challenge, thus failing to fill his report..." Methos explained matter-of-factly, trying to please Rupert, who had not been able to conceal his excitement after he had learnt that Adam Pierson had been the head Methos researcher for many years.

It still amazed him, after a long time knowing Adam and quite a while knowing he was actually Methos, how much the Old Guy could pull off out of nowhere, either to protect his identity or his life, or just simply for the sake of a good evening's entertainment. With the oldest immortal it was always a difficult task to know whether he was telling the truth, or an invention he had manufactured along the way.

"And by the time you left the watchers, had you discovered anything about Methos?" Giles hungrily asked, obviously thrilled to the bone at the thought of a 5000 years man walking amongst them

"Nothing more than old tales and vague mentions by other immortals" the man himself replied, with an amazingly believable expression of disappointment "Either he is very elusive, or he is indeed no more than a legend..." he concluded, standing up to help himself to another glass of Scotch.

The talk about Methos had been going on for a while, and it was really getting hard for him to keep serious, specially since the old man's fictitious stories about his research had already surpassed the formal lies he had told at the watchers, and he was now coming up with freshly invented anecdotes, which flowed easily out of his mouth as Giles grew more and more interested.

He cast a glance at Richie, and was not surprised to see that the young immortal was laughing through Methos' stories, obviously amused himself, as he smoked a cigarette. However, by the time the ancient's storytelling came to a halt the kid stood up.

"Joe, I have to go somewhere..." he explained as he grabbed his coat "I'll see you back at the hotel, okay"

He did not have to say he was not crazy about the boy going around alone in a foreign town, specially since MacLeod had specifically requested that he should not be left alone until they were certain the town was free of belligerent immortals.

"Maybe Adam can give you a ride..." he suggested, trying not to be too obvious when asking Methos to watch him

"Oh, bloody hell!" the Old Guy exclaimed sarcastically "I don't want to be stuck all night playing Driving Miss Daisy!" he complained

"Talk about Miss Daisy..." Richie replied, putting on his coat "I'm not the one who has been telling stories all night about a boring old immortal"

"At least I'll still have my head in the morning, which is more than I can grant you..." the oldest immortal said under his breath as he grabbed his own coat "And don't you think you're gonna smoke in _my_ car!" he added quite loudly, finishing his drink with an annoyed look on his face 

Giles had obviously not heard a thing of Methos' first sentence, but he had had a hard time trying not to laugh out at it. Then he had laughed alongside with the librarian at the second part, and luckily the two immortals left right away, after thanking Rupert for dinner, fighting with each other all the way out like two teenagers, rather than one teenager and one 5000 year-old. 

Now, he would have some time to catch up on his friend's recent life events, which he had avoided out of politeness in the presence of the other two. There were actually a few things he wanted to ask Rupert.


	5. 05

He hated when the Old Guy made jokes about head-severing. He was almost certain it had been _only_ a joke, but he still didn't feel much comfortable speaking of potential decapitation. On the other hand, he had to admit he had been pushing the guy's buttons when he called him a _boring old immortal_, and he almost deserved the threat.

His first thought after learning Adam was actually Methos, the oldest living man, had been _'5,000 years of wisdom? Him?'_, and he still had to remind himself who the guy actually was from time to time. In truth, Methos had always seemed to him way younger than MacLeod, and even though he had never really built a friendship with him, he still felt more inclined to joke around with the Old Guy than he would with his teacher.

"You know old timer, you really don't have to baby-sit me" he tried to break the ice as a very annoyed Methos drove them to the Bronze "It's not like I'm _that_ new to The Game, I was even headhunting for a while, and I really can watch after myself... it's not like Mac had the right to have me taken care of like a baby"

"Keep going kid" the oldest immortal replied ironically "I'm getting to enjoy your company even more by the minute... now you only have to tell me you want my head, and that would really consolidate our friendship"

__

Smart move, he told himself. _Just tell the most paranoid immortal in the world about your headhunting past_. He hadn't even thought about what he was saying, and now he had gotten the Old Guy even _more_ annoyed. Of course, he couldn't really tell whether Methos had a particular problem with that statement of his, or he was just generally ill-humored at the time.

"Yeah right, take your head so every living immortal in the world comes after me for _your_ quickening!" he shot back

"You're really charming kid" the immortal turned watcher grinned "Tell me again about how wonderfully you handled Kirsten Gilles..."

"At least I get laid..." he replied, not appreciating the comment all that much. However, the older man only responded by pulling off the car. For a split second he thought maybe he had _really_ unnerved the ancient, but then he noticed the sign reading The Bronze and realized they had arrived to their destination.

"Well then, go right in and try your luck..." Methos finally said, getting out of the car and heading towards the club himself, not without turning back towards him for a second "Hope you brought some ID, 'cause it's really ugly to get carded on your first date"

He hated him for that. Actually, he didn't know why he hated him the most; because he was a cynical son of a bitch, or because he was so damn hot and so completely out of his league. He had even thought about subtly insinuating himself to Adam, but he had chickened out at the time, first because he couldn't figure the guy out enough to know if he was going to go with it, and second, because he was Mac's friend, and Mac was like his dad, and you don't hit on your dad's friends if you don't want to talk about your bisexuality with him.

And now, after the tip on the fact that _Adam_ was actually Methos, oldest man alive and all, it was kind of intimidating. He would better rule off the possibility and concentrate on Buffy, who was pretty hot and obviously interested.

With that in mind, he got out of the car and entered the Bronze.

--o--

Well, seeing Mr. Pierson walking into The Bronze had surely been a shocker. She knew the guy was not that old, it showed, but it was still kind of hard to picture your European History teacher walking into a place like that. Still, she didn't have much time to dwell on it, because Mr. Pierson soon merged in with the crowd as he headed away from where she sat, towards the bar. Hardly a few minutes later, the person she had been waiting for arrived.

He was dressed the same he had been that morning in class, looking amazingly hot, and he headed towards her as soon as he spotted her in the growing nighttime crowd. In case he didn't show, she had dragged Willow and Tara with her, and now she deeply regretted to have them both sitting next to her as Richie approached.

"Hey Snoozer, Willow..." he greeted them, leaving a blank to be filled with the other girl's name

"This is Tara" she introduced them "Tara, this is Richie"

"Hey Tara" he acknowledged, the girl responding with a shy nod of her head "Been here long?" he asked casually

"No, we just got here" she lied, knowing it would sound too desperate if she confessed they had been there for almost an hour "We just bought some Coke..." she invited, holding up the paper-cup that contained the already warm drink

"Thanks, but I think I'll go get myself a beer..." he declined, and she sighed in relief that he would not drink the confession of her long presence in the place.

--o--

His main porpoise for the night was to get drunk enough not to think about how bad an idea this whole Richie issue was. Despite the Kirsten Gilles incident, he really thought the kid was able to hold his own, and been in the proximity of a former headhunter, no matter how brief his time in it, was not precisely amongst his rules of survival. Headhunters always got hunted themselves, usually by revenge-thirsty friends and lovers. Which brought something entirely different to mind...

However, the sight of a very distraught -and obviously very drunk- Spike sitting at the bar erased those thoughts from his mind. He had really come to like the vampire, even more because he somewhat related to him. But apart from all similarities between them, the bleached blonde had been one of the few people he had found worth-while in this town, and he was really curious about the reasons for him to be looking so down.

"Not a good day for you, I take it" he said as a greeting, taking the stool next to the undead townie, and grateful that it was conveniently off-sight from the slayer

"You don't look that good yourself..." Spike replied, one eyebrow raised, as he offered him a beer, which of course he accepted, starting to drink from it at once

"Tell me yours, I'll tell you mine" he offered, although he was pretty sure to know what the other's _problem_ was

"Matters of the heart... what a travesty" the vampire hissed "Stole a kiss, got my heart stolen... if you tell anyone I told you that, I'll rip your heart off" he threatened, half jokingly, half seriously

"I'm not sure I can live without a heart..." he pondered for an instant "Though maybe I can. Pretty sure I haven't used it in what seems like millennia anyway..." he replied, completely honest about it but aware that it would be taken metaphorically "So who's mystery person? Xander?" he asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear the confirmation

"Yeah..." the dead guy sighed "Not that I'm a poof, you know" he hurried to clarify, which seemed quite hilarious to him although he wouldn't tell.

He knew a gay guy when he saw one, and this was certainly not one of them. Just a person who had lived long enough to realize that love –both spiritual _and_ physical - can be found in anyone regardless of sex and age. He warned himself not to go there, because if he started thinking about ages he would end up concluding the only person somewhat old enough for him was Cassandra, and that was one thought he did _not_ wish to entertain.

"Oh, c'mon, how old are you Spike?" he asked directly, tired of playing the unknowing mortal "Hundred? Hundred and fifty? You're not gonna tell me you've been straight all that time!"

The vampire looked at him with an expression of clear shock, and then chuckled "Hundred and twenty" he conceded "Didn't know you had such a good eye for age... what are you?" he asked curious

"I told you, just a guy" he grinned, not at all intending to tell _his_ secret "Not the kind of guy who doesn't recognize a vampire when he sees one, though..."

"So aren't you afraid?" the undead asked sarcastically

"Should I be?"

--o--

That was _not_ his lucky day. After a whole morning talking with Tara he had not been able to avoid Buffy and Willow and make a clean exit from the school building, so he had had to pretend he was there visiting them, and what should have been a few hours stay had ended up been a whole-day social visit. By the time he got home, Spike was nowhere around. Which of course, was not a shocker.

What he had done to Spike was pretty much the equivalent of leaving the morning after sex. Even though they had gotten nowhere that far, he knew that what they _had_ done was very important. Hell, for him it was _more_ important than just sex, because Spike was his friend, and you don't make out with your friends, and cuddle with them until you fall asleep, only to walk out on them and be gone for the whole day.

To make his day even _more_ complicate, as he walked into The Bronze –where he knew Spike would be, he saw Buffy. She was talking with a blond guy he had never seen before, obviously flirting with him –and not very subtly, but all the same he did _not_ need Buffy to see him getting on his knees to beg Spike for forgiveness. Which was pretty much what he intended to do.

He was thinking on how to get pass Buffy without been noticed, when suddenly he spotted Willow and Tara a little farther, and a great idea formed in his mind. He hurried towards them, pretending not to have seen Buffy, and faking alarm.

"Willow, where is Buffy?" he asked in a nervous tone that was hardly fake, but rather just projected into something else

"She's right there. Why? What's the matter Xander?" the redhead asked worried, trying to calm him down

"There's this huge muddy demon back where the old high school was, scaring people away!" he improvised, relieved to see that his friend went at once to call Buffy, and shortly after the three women left towards the old high school.

--o--

"Xander's here..." Adam interrupted him, just when he was finishing telling him how the boy had left that morning and not returned. The guy had proved very accepting of the fact that he was a bloodsucking demon with homosexual tendencies, and had even offered to lend him some money for a room if he did not wish to go back to Xander's.

"What, you have a bloody radar?" he asked, unable to spot the boy in the crowded place. Right then, he _did_ see the slayer and the two little witches hurrying out of The Bronze, and sighed "He's not here for me... probably just came to warn them about something _really_ dangerous... nobody cares about old Spike nowadays..."

He had felt so unexplainably comfortable with Adam he had even dared to tell him the whole story about the chip, and some parts of how he had betrayed his so-called friends to side with the good guys. When he had mentioned the slayer, Adam had not known what he was talking about, so he had told him who she was. They didn't give a damn about him, so why would he give a damn about keeping her secret?

Adam only grinned in a dismissive fashion and ordered another beer, and it shouldn't have surprised him at all when shortly a few minutes later Xander appeared next to them. But it did.

"Hi Xander" the older human said emphatically

"Hey Adam" the boy replied nervously "Spike... I _really_ need to talk to you..." he all but begged, and he couldn't help to look up at him. How beautiful this human was! And the way he looked at him, with uncertainty and desire, could have made a warmer heart to melt. But not his. He _couldn't_ let the confusing emotions he felt rule his mind.

"Nothing to talk here, Harris..." he replied in his best practiced bad-ass tone, taking his eyes strategically away from the boy's "We made out, you freaked out... now let the vampire be"

"C'mon, Spike, can't we go somewhere more private?" Xander insisted. However, it was not the words the convinced him, but rather the hand that rested itself on his shoulder and pressed just a bit, urging him to listen.

When he looked up once more he realized they were not only in the middle of a crowded and noisy place, but also sitting next to Adam and a young blond man who had just arrived and was sharing a beer with the other human as they listened intently to their every word. Hell, it even made _him_ pretty uncomfortable to talk to Xander in there, and he really wanted to talk.

"Bloody hell, alright Harris!" he exclaimed, defeated "Do I still have my couch?"

"Yeah, let's go home Spike..." the boy smiled, and that was it. He couldn't detach himself from that smile in that youthful and innocent face.

--o--

"Was that what I thought it was?" he asked as he lit a cigarette and ordered a beer for himself

"I _do not_ read minds! I don't know why people keep implying I do! How can I know what you thought it was..." Methos answered ironically "Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn't you be getting laid? I thought you said you did that..." the old man grinned

"Yeah, this town's a jinx" he sighed, well aware of how mocking the comment was and how much he had it coming.

Truth was, he had never considered Adam as much of a chaste scholar, even before knowing he was actually the oldest living immortal, and bragging with him had been one stupid move. After all, if Adam, with his looks, didn't get laid, what chances did _he_ have?

"Sorry to hear that kid... I'd give you a consolation blow-job, but I don't think you'd appreciate it..." Methos grinned, as he finished the last of his beer and stood up to leave

"Thanks, old timer, you really _are_ a friend" he replied with a touch of sarcasm, as he watched the other immortal put on his coat, careful not to drop any concealed weapons. _If that would be consolation prize, what the hell is first prize?_, he thought, taking a good look at the man's buttocks before the long coat blocked his sight.

"Well, it's up to you Rich..." the old guy whispered, winking at him as he finished his sentence. Then he walked away.

It took a while before it hit him. Adam _was_ kidding, right? Because, on second thought, it sounded pretty much like the guy was actually _hitting on him_. But it couldn't be... it had to be his imagination. But what if it wasn't? What if he actually had a chance with him, and he blew it because he didn't get it that he meant it for real? Before he could even think of what he was going to do when he found Methos, he stood up and, hastily grabbing his coat, reached for the door.

Surpassing his wildest expectations, the oldest immortal was still there. He could sense his strong presence even before he exited the club, and as soon as he was outside he recognized his unmistakable slender frame leaning against the side of his car. Controlling his steps in an attempt not to look too desperate, he walked towards the expecting man. Once he got close enough, he didn't know what to do.

He stood there, in front of Methos, for an instant, and it sent the chills to his spine when the old immortal abandoned his relaxed position against the car and advanced a few steps towards him. They were so close they were almost kissing, yet the old tease stood his ground casually, apparently oblivious to the nerve-breaking proximity.

"You want a ride?" the old timer asked, his voice suggestive although not entirely out of the ordinary.

He caught at once the second meaning of the proposal, and he could feel his cock hardening against his will at the very thought of the possibility. His heart was beating so fast he could hear it in his ears, and he _knew_ Methos could notice how labored his breathing had become. To be this close to him, after so long. The cards were dealt; the old guy knew he wanted him, and it was suddenly obvious he wanted him as well.

--o--

"So, here we are..." was all he could come up with to break the embarrassing silence between him and the blond vampire. They hadn't said a word since they had left the Bronze, and now that they were standing together in the bedroom, without exchanging a word, he just _had_ to say something. Could have been something smarter, though.

"Yeah, looks pretty much like it did this morning, when you _left_" the bleached blonde replied sarcastically, walking towards the couch and letting himself fall on it

"I was confused!" he snapped, looking probably very stupid and very nervous. He _was_ very nervous.

"Are you any less confused now?" the vampire raised an eyebrow

"I don't know..." he confessed, feeling more awkward than a whole life of been the clown had ever made him feel

"So how long before you run away?" the undead hissed

"I'm not gonna run away, Spike!" he exclaimed, spontaneously sitting in the couch and immediately regretting it "Just because I feel weird about what happened, doesn't mean that I will avoid the subject forever..."

"So, wanna shag all night until it feels right?" the blonde offered with a grin, either ironic or suggestive he couldn't tell

"Can't you ever be serious?" he complained, but at the same time could feel the heat rising to his face as the memories of the night before flooded his mind, altogether with many thoughts regarding the vampire that he would never confess to anyone

"Oh, Harris!" the vampire said in a seductive voice, leaning towards him in a suggestive manner "Is that a stake in your pocket, or you're just happy to see me?"

He was going to say something to make Spike listen to him, but when a teasing hand made its way slowly up his inner tight, all conscious thought was instantly replaced by a lustful urge.

"Fuck! Talk later!" he gave up, all but leaping over the blonde, taking the vampire's face in his hands and pulling him close, claiming those luscious lips for a passionate kiss.

It didn't feel awkward as it had felt the night before, but it was probably just because he was so horny he could hardly think of anything else other than the hot man who was there with him, and his adolescent libido made up for any kind of uncertainty at the time. He wanted Spike, he would have Spike. Fuck the rest.

It came as a relief how uninhibited the vampire was that night, exploring his mouth with no reserves as he pushed him back against the couch, ridding himself of his trench-coat without breaking the kiss, and then falling over him in a desperate embrace. It sent the shivers through him as a dead-cold hand slipped under his T-shirt and started moving up and down his torso, tentatively at first and then growing bolder.

By now his pants had become positively imprisoning, and they were so close to one another he could feel against his leg Spike's own growing bulge. It shocked him how good it felt to have the other man like this, to feel his erection building against his body as their tongues battled for supremacy in an overpowering contest. He thought he was going to come when the vampire's hand brushed one nipple briefly and then, noticing the positive reaction, started rubbing it slightly at first, and then increasing the pressure slowly. Painfully slowly.

He wasn't even aware that he had slid an arm around Spike's waist and had pulled him on top of him until he felt the vampire's swollen cock rubbing against his own. It seemed his hips had a will of their own as they thrust up of their own accord to amplify the contact with the other man's crotch; instinctively he lowered his hand to the vampire's ass and pulled him even closer, relishing in the feeling of the hard organ against his own as he rubbed himself against it furiously.

Spike was far from shocked; actually, he increased the friction on his painful erection with each stroke, growing more and more aggressive as he drove him perilously close to orgasm. Eventually it became too much to bear, and his whole body began to shiver as the sensations in his groin overpowered him, sending small flashes of electricity all over his body until he finally came, too breathless to make much noise above soft groans.

His own release was enough to trigger the vampire's own, leaving him out of breath as well, and lying on top of him, wet and sticky pants against the like. After a few seconds, before he could master his labored breathing, the vampire looked at him straight in the eyes, and sighed.

"This is pretty much pass all backing off, Xander..." he whispered

"I know..." was all he replied, before he captured the blonde's lips in a tender kiss

--o--

"...and then he told me 'aquila non capit muscas', and I told him that just because I was the oldest living immortal didn't mean that I wasn't just a fly for an eagle like him, the bloody egomaniac... but oh no, he _had_ to fight me! Didn't matter how much I praised him and tried to talk him out of it... he just _had_ to..."

"So what happened?" he asked intrigued, almost forgetting why he was in Methos' car in the first place

"To make a long story short, I took his bloody head... but it was a shame, I liked the guy. I even regret that I told him 'vini, vidi, vinci' right before I took his head... it was definitely tasteless, I wish I would have told him something else..." he sighed

"C'mon!" he exclaimed stunned "You're telling me Julius Caesar was an immortal, and you killed him?"

"Yeah, his immortality triggered when they stabbed him at the senate... it's a shame he thought so highly of himself" he explained as he parked the car "One would think he would know better after his own son –adopted, anyway- conspired to kill him. But he just had it in him, and what was I to do? Let him kill me so I didn't hurt him? I'm Methos. I didn't get to be the oldest living immortal by been compassionate..." he said matter-of-factly, dropping the subject as he descended from the car. They were at the hotel's door.

He swallowed hard before following him out of the car and into the hotel lobby, which was fortunately free of prying eyes. They got into the elevator and Adam pushed the button to the floor he was staying in, which was luckily not the same as he and Joe shared. The drive to the hotel had been made comfortable by Adam's casual stories about famous immortals, but now that silence settled between them he was suddenly very anxious.

"I'm sure you're dying for a beer... I know I am" the old man said as he opened the door to his room and let him in, probably noticing how uneasy he was now

"Yeah, thanks old timer" he replied, dropping himself in a couch near the door, and following Adam's graceful body with his eyes as he approached the small refrigerator to return immediately with two bottles of beer. Throwing one at him, Methos sprawled in the opposite side of the couch, making a statement with his relaxed and inviting position.

"So, how do you want it?" he finally asked, quite naturally as he swallowed a mouthful of beer

"What?" he asked, understanding exactly what he meant but unable to believe the old man could be so bold about it

"The blow-job" he said matter-of-factly "I offered, you're here... how do you want it?" he grinned, for the first time showing he was actually having a great time teasing him

"Um... I don't know about this, Adam..." he stammered, avoiding the other man's eyes and drinking almost half of his beer in a long nervous gulp

"You mean you don't want a blow-job?" he asked incredulous, a grin evident in the sound of his voice "I've had 5000 years of experience, I must say I am quite good"

Now he was lost. Just the hearing of that was enough to make his lower body respond, and he flushed when he realized there was no way he could hide it from the other immortal.

"Okay, you _do_ want a blow-job..." Adam acknowledged, sounding quite amused by his physical response "What's the problem, then?" he asked compliantly "You can tell me..." he insisted, his voice nothing like mocking now

"Well... it's too rash" he managed to form the words "Feels like you're offering me sympathy sex..." he said awkwardly, not quite sure how to explain the concept, and even more embarrassed as he heard the older man chuckle

"I'm not the sympathetic kind, Rich" Adam assured him, not moving an inch from where he was reclined "If I'm doing anyone a favor here, it's only me... I _want_ to do it, I want to have you inside my mouth, to _taste_ you, I want to make you come for me..."

That did it. If the oldest immortal kept on talking like that, his already tight jeans would become positively painful. And it was not just the words. It was the way Methos said 'want', like he really wanted him. And he wanted the old bastard.

"If it makes you any less uncomfortable" the man formerly known as Death continued, taking him away from his thoughts "We can do it your way... what do you have in mind?"

"I don't know" he said even once again, now conscious of his absurd embarrassment and embarrassed even more because of it, unable to take his eyes off the floor "We could just kiss... for a start"

It was supposed to be a suggestion, but he knew he had made it sound like a question. However, he couldn't dwell on it for much longer, because he heard the distinct sound of Adam's beer been placed on top of the table, and right afterwards long white fingers took the other bottle from his own hands, disentangling his nervous fingers with extreme care, the feeling of those warm attentive hands making it impossible for him to avoid looking up any longer.

When he looked up, he thought he was going to faint. Deep hazel eyes, staring deeply into his own from mere inches of distance. He could feel Methos' warm breathing against his own face, and the sight of him was so overwhelming he had to close his eyes. The man was beautiful. He had to force himself to breathe when those same fingers that had just brushed his hand while retrieving the bottle started caressing his face, starting on the side of his forehead and slowly tracing their way down his cheek and over his lower lip.

"Like this...?" Adam asked softly, replacing his fingers with a slight brush of his lips

The older man proved patient, giving him time to respond shyly to the initial contact before tentatively opening his mouth, letting his expert tongue trace the parting of his lips teasingly. He instinctively opened his own mouth, welcoming the intruder, and in no time he was actively responding to the kiss, reveling in every sensation, each contact, each long-dreamed touch.

--o--

"That was nice, wasn't it?" he whispered softly as he pulled away for a moment, wanting to see the youthful face that for some reason made him want to throw overboard a dozen lifetimes of staying uninvolved with others of his kind

"Uh uh" the young one replied, opening his eyes and looking at him as intently as he was. With something close to fear he realized he could love this one, he could let himself drown in those deep blue eyes suddenly lit with passion. He had no time to panic, as it was Richie who kissed him this time, placing both hands on the sides of his face and pulling him eagerly towards him.

There was no shyness this time, no reluctance, just long unsatisfied desire. He wanted to be gentle, but the deepness of the kiss was taking all restrictions away from him, and when two strong arms pulled him closer he just knew he was lost. He would not fight a battle that there was no use fighting. Suddenly Richie had become the aggressor, and it surprised him pleasantly to see that he had misjudged the kid from the very beginning.

"Forget the blow-job" the blonde broke the kiss for an instant and pulled his sweater over his head "I have other plans..." he explained, contemplating his now naked torso with a luscious grin "You're full of surprises, old man"

"You have no idea..." was all he said, pulling the kid back to him for more.

--o--

As he wondered about the deserted nighttime streets, all he could think of was her. He hadn't even stopped to question why was it that he was thinking of her all the time, all day and all night. And it wasn't just her... she was the one that came stronger to him, she the one that called his name in his mind's ears and invited him to be with them again; the way it should always have been. But the others were with her, pale reflections of a distant past that still tormented him.

In his reason, he knew it was not right, it was not what was expected of him, and not even what he wanted when he consciously thought about things. But deep inside, in a place within himself that he had long tried to suppress, her summons found an answer. Things stirred inside of him that he had long fought to keep at bay, and the thoughts and desires those hidden demons brought to him had separated him utterly from everything that he had thought he wanted.

He couldn't be with them anymore. He couldn't face them. Every time he stood in a room with them, ideas that he couldn't repress arose in his mind; cruel, unspeakable things. He tried to avoid contact with them, to keep them away where they would be safe from him and from the maddening urges he felt arising within himself. But it wasn't enough.

He knew they cared about him, and their concern made them constantly search his company as they tried to figure what was wrong with him. But deep inside, in a place he dared not reveal to them but which was as much as part of him as anything else, he felt their concern as intrusion, their worry as suspicion, and their love as mindless possessiveness.

She was doing that to him. Wherever she was, she was strong now, and she was calling out for him. She was tempting him. She was showing him what it had been, and how it could still be. She was showing him peace, the fulfillment of deep hidden desires without the need to make up for them, the freedom of doing whatever came to mind without caring anymore. After months, seeing her, listening to her even in his dreams, he was starting to doubt if he cared enough to keep going anymore.

--o--

"Found anything?" she asked, knowing full well that she hadn't, and wouldn't, but wanting to give Xander enough time

"Couple vampires, but no muddy demon" Buffy sighed "You two?"

"Nothing slimy" Willow replied concerned "Where could the demon have gone? Maybe we should go to find Xander and ask him _exactly_ what it looked like, so we can research..."

"We can do that in the morning" she suggested, afraid that the timing would not be the best, and sure that Xander's had been only but an excuse to get them away from Spike "I'm tired, and it's almost morning anyway... we can rest a while, and look some more during the sunlight hours"

"Yes, that's a good idea" Buffy at once agreed "You two have risked yourselves enough already, and it would be best to continue when the sun comes up..." she concluded "I can't believe I ruined my date for nothing..." she complained

"It wasn't a date, Buffy..." Willow opined, to what Buffy replied instantly with a sigh, and then;

"It's the closest to a date I've been in a long time... I just hope he didn't have such a bad time"


	6. 06

__

What time was it, anyway? He could see through a window in the other side of the room that the sun was beginning to rise, but there were no clocks anywhere, and he didn't want to disturb the sleeping man next to him. He must have fallen asleep himself, thinking of the possible implications last night could have in his life, and he had awakened just a moment ago, in the best place he had been in years. Richie's arms.

The other immortal looked so innocent in his sleep, so youthful. After a few years in the Game, it was amazing how well the boy –the man- had managed to survive with all his charms unblemished. He was tougher now, his body was stronger, and in his eyes, at times, you could see what immortality had done to him. How it had changed him, forced him to grow, to become a killer. Just as he was. But all the same, Richie was still the same man he had fallen for on first sight, barely a few years ago.

Asleep in his arms, Richie didn't look at all like the man who, the night before, with eyes filled with raw passion, had all but begged to be fucked. He could pass for a child, the look on his face so peaceful in his sleep. And yet he was a man, a man who had cried out his name as he came, just hours ago; a man who had surrendered himself to him without even asking for anything in return. Did Richie know that without asking for anything, he was taking more than he had given to anyone in centuries?

Could this sleeping beauty know that last night had not been a one-night stand, but the beginning of the end for him? The beginning of the end for decades of staying uninvolved, of been secluded from immortals and the Game. He cursed MacLeod silently; it was all the Highlander's fault. He had made him care again, he had made him feel again... and suddenly, those recently awakened feelings had taken their toll. He was falling in love now, and it was too late to retreat.

He was taken away from his thoughts as the sleeping form next to him started stirring, eventually opening two beautiful and sleepy blue eyes to contemplate what surrounded him. When those eyes rested on him, Richie smiled. He didn't even know why, but he smiled in return; something about the young immortal made him want to smile.

"Morning" the blond one said in a sleepy voice "What time is it?" he asked, right before he realized the early morning light was already illuminating the room

"Morning Rich" he replied, kissing his lover's forehead softly before continuing "I think it's time to get up... Joe may be worried"

He hated to bring Joe into the conversation, because he knew that it meant they would be parted very soon, but he had to. The watcher had been very concerned about Richie's welfare, and had even asked him to take care of the young immortal... so much for taking care of him. However, he was certain that, if the mortal was awake, would be out of his mind thinking of what ever might have happened to his newly appointed protegee.

"Oh my God, Joe!" the young man exclaimed, all but jumping to his feet "How am I going to explain to Joe that I was gone all night!" he scolded himself as he battled with his underwear and then his pants

"You'll come up with something... just try to avoid the 'Methos and I had sex' excuse, and you'll be fine..." he suggested, mildly ironic, as he put on his boxers and headed for the small refrigerator in the other side of the room, grabbing a bottle of water from it

"Very funny..." the already dressed man replied, walking towards him and grabbing the bottle from his hand "And, since you're my watcher now, I trust you will avoid putting last night in your report" he added, taking a long gulp of the cold water

"I don't do sex reports... I'm not _that_ kinky" he grinned, turning on the TV to check the time

"Could have fooled me" the kid laughed, grabbing his face for a brief kiss "I gotta go, Joe will go ballistic on me..." he concluded, and then headed for the door

"See you around Rich"

"Yeah, later Adam..."

--o--

His head ached. He had had one too many drinks last night, and he hardly remembered been _that_ drunk in a long time. Mac and Adam were both quite fond of their beers, but Rupert and his scotch were a serious matter; reminiscing about old times they had kept on drinking long after the two immortals had left, and at about three in the morning they had been so inebriated they had ended up listening to old records and singing to the music. If he hadn't known Rupert the way he knew him, he would be positively embarrassed about the night before.

However, there were more important matters at hand. Like, for example, where was Richie. He had not heard from the kid since the previous night, when he had almost forced Adam to go with the younger man. It wouldn't surprise him if the oldest immortal had neglected his watcher duties and let the kid go around on his own, since neither of them had seemed particularly glad about their imposed watcher-watched relation, and if that was the case it was likely that Richie had encountered problems. That happens in a Hellmouth.

He had knocked on the kid's door for about fifteen minutes before going down for breakfast, hoping that some coffee and some spicy snacks would make the hangover bearable, and now he was back to knocking. He was getting seriously alarmed, after another fifteen-minute session of knocking without reply, when suddenly the door burst open and Richie emerged from it.

"How long have you been in there?" the watcher asked irritated "I knocked for about a quarter of an hour!"

"I'm sorry Joe, I must have overslept" the kid apologized, sounding almost sincere but not quite

"Well, don't do it again..." he scolded him "You're gonna be late for Adam's class. You don't even have time for breakfast... c'mon, let's go kid!" _He should have known this kid was not easy to handle_.

--o--

__

Okay, so far so good. Joe had not suspected a thing... or at least, he hadn't suspected _the_ thing that had actually taken place the night before. He had been mad, and had urged him to go to classes at once, but he had not tried to bring up the subject of his disappearance the previous night. Maybe, if he was lucky enough, he had not even realized he had been missing. That made one solved situation.

Next one was right before his eyes in that precise moment. Buffy. She had not noticed his presence just yet, and he felt deeply tempted not to be the one to tell her he was there. He liked Buffy, in a general way; she was hot, even though he did not like short women, and she was also nice and funny. She was not your usual bimbo, so that added to her score. But still, after spending the night with Adam –the person he had been fantasizing about for a long time- he was not sure what to make of her.

Luckily, he told himself, he hadn't had time to even flirt with her all that much, so maybe a friendship could be managed until he figured what his affair with the oldest immortal would mean. While he was busy with those thoughts, the girl called Willow noticed him, and in a dissimulate way made sure Buffy knew as well. With no way to avoid confrontation, he walked towards them.

"Hey, Richie..." the blond girl said cheerfully "I'm sorry we had to leave like that last night, we had a... a family emergency... my family... and Willow's" she explained, obviously coming out with the poor attempt at an excuse in the spur of the moment "Maybe we can make it up to you, tonight?" she offered with a big smile

"Sure, if we don't get too much homework..." he replied absently, hoping Adam would give him an excuse not to go with the girls –a better one than homework if possible.

"Yeah, Mr. Pierson can be a pain in the ass" Buffy commented offhandedly, earning herself a reproving 'Buffy" from her redheaded friend "What? It's true!" she defended herself "That guy has an obsession with homework"

Right then, his third situation passed them by in the hall, walking quickly into his classroom. _Adam_. The oldest immortal barely glanced at them, at him more precisely, and then continued on his way. He told himself not to make assumptions, because he knew damn well that Adam, even if he had wanted it so, couldn't possibly address him personally in a place where they were supposed to be complete strangers. However, for some reason he couldn't quite understand, he felt sad that the man hadn't even said hello. Trying to take those ideas off his mind, he suggested the girls to go to class.

As much as he would have preferred to sit alone, it proved impossible to discard the two girls without been rude and arousing suspicions, so he agreed to sit with them, and ended up sitting between the two. Adam looked astonishing that morning; he was always beautiful, but there was a small touch of cheerfulness in him that made him irresistible. He had to force himself to conceal a grin when the idea struck him that maybe, just maybe, Adam looked this happy because of him. He dismissed the thought at once as ridiculous.

What could a five thousand years old find appealing in him? It wasn't false modesty; he knew women and men alike fell for him all the time. But Methos? The oldest living man... What could he possibly have that a man like Methos would find out of the ordinary?

"Snoozer" Adam's voice interrupted him in his abstractions "What was the Sumerian writing system called again?"

"Er... um... hieroglyphic?" she tried to improvise, coming out of a day-dream of her own

"Nice try" Adam chuckled, making Buffy blush "Dawson?" he then asked, offhandedly for what he could tell

"Cuneiform" he replied, not even sure where ever had he gotten that from. However, it appeared to be right, and he was rewarded with an approving smile from the man he all but worshiped, and a proud giggle from the redhead next to him. Had Methos himself told him that? About Summer, and the way they wrote back then? He found a strange comfort in the possibility, and wondered if the oldest immortal had remembered about telling him when he had asked the question. He hoped he had.

The class flew by, at least for him. He didn't know how time could pass so quickly when looking at Adam, which was all he had done during the class. Look at him, listen to his voice, his fine accent, his small ironic comments to unapplied students. Then the class was over, and Adam was gone in an ocean of unknown faces. His next class was of no interest whatsoever to him.

--o--

It was noon when he awoke. In the couch, but pleasantly not alone. Xander lay asleep on top of him, his head on his shoulder and snuggled against his neck, and his right arm holding him by the waist as the left arm fell to the side and to the floor. He thanked his lucky starts that he was a vampire, or he would have died of craps, with Xander's strong –and heavy- body lying on top of him throughout the whole night. As it was, he loved the feeling. The only thing unfavorable was Xander's breath against the sensitive skin of his neck, which would probably get him horny in no time unless he managed to stop it.

They hadn't gotten anywhere that far last night, but it had been a serious step ahead from the night before that. He was positive now that Xander felt pretty much the same way _he_ felt, and for some reason he found the idea exhilarating. He, Spike, not bad enough to be bad, and not good enough to be good, had someone who cared for him, who wanted him... it seemed odd. Nobody had ever really loved him, if he was honest to himself.

Drusilla had been in love, whatever that love really was, with a man that he couldn't be. She had found the sad image of a man he had been as a mortal, crying his heart out in a deserted alley, and she had sired him to make herself a companion like Angelus was to Darla. In turning him, she had not only made him a vampire, but had also shaped him into a man she could belong with; the man that had earned for himself the nickname of William the bloody. And he had let her do it, he had held onto her as to a lifesaving device, and let her mould him at will.

He had killed, he had tortured, he had maimed... and yet nothing of that seemed real at all anymore. Not here, with Xander. He had tried to be evil for Drusilla, and he had done all of the things a worthy demon should do, only to be abandoned for a Chaos demon, because, in the end, he was not enough. He couldn't be how he had been, and he couldn't be what she wanted, because it was not who he was anymore... somewhere along the way, he had changed, and going back in his tracks was not an option.

He was who he was now, and it didn't matter whom he had been before. Xander did not care, it showed in the way the mortal looked at him; and it was because he had seen the real Spike, the man behind the fangs. As long as Xander accepted him, cared for him, maybe eventually loved him, nothing of the rest mattered anymore. Maybe, he had finally found a place where he belonged. Maybe, finally, he could be himself.

Suddenly, the sleeping form above him started moving, and when he looked down at the boy a pair of beautiful dark eyes were staring at him, completely awake. He wondered how long had Xander been awake, and how long had he been looking at him. How long had he been distracted, thinking?

"Morning" he said, trying to break the silence that was making him uneasy for some reason

For a moment he thought Xander was going to stand up and leave when the boy lifted his body with his strong arms, leaving an empty space between their two bodies, but to his surprise the boy kissed him softly in the lips, and then lowered himself again to rest in his dead arms.

"Could we stay like this forever?" Xander whispered, nuzzling at his neck again as his hands caressed his body softly. Not in lust, but in comfort.

If Dru could see this, she would kill them both, but he loved the feeling of simply snuggling to that warm body. _Like normal lovers do_, he thought, and he rejoiced in the idea. He _did_ love Xander, and to lay there, just hugging, without further porpoises, was a thing he had always dreamed of. Hell, he had written lame poetry about it when he was mortal!

"Forever" he replied with a sigh, and with pleasure he found that Xander responded by tightening his grip around him. _An affirmation._

--o--

He couldn't even remember the last time he had had a hangover like this. He always kept scotch at home, and he was not reticent to drink it when the mood suited him, but he hardly got drunk at all nowadays. He had gotten drunk when Jenny had died, but that was pretty much it, and it had been different; that time, he had been desperate to forget, to get away from a reality that was too hard to bear. This time, he had just gotten drunk for the sake of it, and he really didn't regret it.

Been with Joe again had brought back memories of his past, but not the kind that Ethan brought. Instead, all his memories involving Joe were pleasant ones, the kind that made you sit back and talk non-stop about the good old days, and made you hope that, at least for one day, you could go back to those times. Joe had been a great friend, and to his delight he still was.

They had gotten drunk, laughed about the silly things they used to do, things that _did not_ involve demon raising, and then started playing old records and singing along. All in all, despite the killer headache, he was pleased with the past evening, and expected to be able to repeat the experience for as many nights as Joe stayed in town. Without the _too_ drunk part.

"How's yours?" the unexpected voice asked, taking him away from his thoughts

"Like I died and came back" he replied "Yours?"

"Worse" Joe answered smiling; he hadn't realized when his friend had arrived.

"Still, we could do it again tonight..." he suggested, smiling back

"Absolutely... no use dying of old age with a healthy liver" his fellow watcher agreed "I'll bring my guitar with me tonight, and we'll see if we're still in a good shape..."

"You don't look in much a good shape, Joe" another intruding voice opined; this time it was Adam walking into the library, books in hand "You sure you don't want my hangover cure recipe?" he offered, letting himself fall onto a chair next to where Joe had sat

"Forget it, Adam... I won't put anything that contains dog's hair to my mouth" the bearded man laughed

"It's your lose" the History teacher grinned "Rupert?"

"Thank you Adam, but I think I will pass as well" he couldn't but laugh himself; the young man always surprised him with his occurrences "We are actually planning to do it again tonight, if you would like to join us... Joe is bringing his guitar" he offered

"Sure, I will be there... I'll even bring my triangle. I hear I'm getting quite good at it"

The three men laughed together, while Adam insisted that he was indeed a fine triangle player, jokingly complaining about the way they discriminated him and his art.

In true, he was happy to see Joe again, and with the prospect of Adam's friendship. It had been too long since he had allowed himself to socialize, and only now it struck him how lonely his life had grown to be of late. Sure, he loved and cared for Buffy and each of her friends, but this was different; these were men with whom he could be friends, equals. The company of these two men made him feel young and alive again. He could get used to it.

--o--

She had planned to go straight to the library after Mr. Pierson's class to tell Giles about the muddy demon Xander had seen the night before, but when she had arrived there she had found her European History nightmare, as he had so eloquently described himself, and Richie's uncle speaking animatedly with Giles. She had planned to leave silently the way she had come, taking advantage of the fact that she had not been noticed, but then Willow, who had been distracted, had walked into the library calling out for Giles.

"Giles, I was wondering if you knew of a muddy demon Xander encountered last night..." her friend had spelled out, before she stopped short at the realization of the other men's presence "A muddy... um... diva" she tried to disguise her mistake "Yeah, um, this woman singing at the Bronze... um, she was good... and, er, muddy..." the redhead stammered, embarrassed by the way the unknown man and the History teacher were staring at her with eyes wide open in shock.

"Nice picture" Mr. Pierson laughed "Clayface meets Donna Summers" he added, his joke incomprehensible for her, and probably also for Willow, who nonetheless laughed hysterically at it "Oh, don't be condescending..." he complained, sounding somewhat annoyed "You don't even know who Donna Summers is"

"Well, no..." Willow confessed, her face painfully red "I- I better go..." she tried to say, but before she had finished Mr. Pierson was already on his feet

"Don't be too hard on yourself, red" he said on his way out "_They_ don't know who Clayface is..." he assured her, heading for the door "I'll see you later Rup, Joe..." he said as a goodbye, and then left the library babbling about something that sounded to her like 'I need to catch up with times'. The other man, Richie's uncle, also stood up to go.

"I'll leave you to your work, Rupert... I'm sure these girls need some books, and I'm disturbing you" he said as he walked towards the door, helping himself with a cane.

Willow watched him leave the room before she addressed Giles again, and as soon as he was gone she hurried to apologize;

"I'm sorry Giles! I didn't know you had company! I really did it this time! I'm so sorry!" she started to babble

"It's alright Willow" the librarian luckily interrupted her incessant row of apologies "The muddy diva concept was rather ingenious" he assured her

"Yes, I know..." her friend brightened "It just came to me!" she said somewhat proudly, before remembering the reason why they were there "Aw, um, we were here because Xander saw this muddy demon last night, in the old high school..."

"Yeah, he said it was ugly, and was scaring people away" she added, finally deciding to take part in the conversation "But when we got there, there was no demon... not even mud. Just old blown-up concrete"

"Well, have you talked to Xander?" Giles inquired concerned "We may need him to give us a description of this demon, to know what we are up against..."

"I have more classes before the end of the day" she explained at once

"Yeah, me too..." Willow said as well "Maybe I can ask Tara to go... she has some free time, I think"

"Wonderful, please do" Giles replied

--o--

It was great to wake up in Spike's arms, and this time it had been even better than the first, because he hadn't freaked out in the least about it. By now, the cards were on the table; the feeling was mutual. It was still kind of bizarre to think of the vampire as his, well, _his what?_ His lover, wasn't he? Had a nice ring to it, but scary too. He had never had one of those.

He had had sex with Faith once, and that had been pretty much it. Then he had dated Cordy for a few months, ruined her reputation in the process –what's with been loser number one in the school and all-, and cheated on her with Willow of all people! Then after graduation Cordelia had gone to LA, and Willow had become a lesbian. Was there something in the water in Sunnydale? What did they feed their children to get such an amount of same-sex oriented kids, he wondered.

However, for him, it was decided. It had felt weird at first, sure, because Spike was a man, but then it had become so simple, because the man was _Spike_. So whatever happened in the future, he was certain he wanted to give it a try and see how it worked. After all, there was something special between the vampire and him that transcended the obvious physical attraction; he _knew_ that Spike saw there was more to him than the regular goof everyone knew and loved.

Because there _was_ more to him now that there was to that silly and shy sixteen years old that Willow had know for most of her life and Buffy had gotten to befriend. He was no longer the insecure kid who had fallen for Buffy and had never dared to tell her, and he was not going to make the same mistake with Spike, the only one who seemed to realized he had grown out of his high school days and become more or less a man.

"Xander, I hate Star Trek" the man behind him complained "Can we watch something else?"

He had only left the room to get some blood for Spike and some coffee for himself, and then they had sat all morning watching TV, Spike sitting in the couch behind him with his legs spread, and him in front of the vampire, reclining comfortably over his muscled chest. He couldn't think of a time when he had felt this good, this satisfied with his life.

"Yeah, I wasn't even watching really..." he admitted

"Really?" the vampire asked intrigued "Lost in thought, were you?" he said, putting his arms around him in a soft embrace "What _were_ you thinking about?"

"I don't know... us" he confessed, looking over his shoulder to find Spike contemplating him with one raised eyebrow. The doorbell ran, but he just dismissed it; let someone else get it.

"Funny, me too" the vampire grinned before leaning over to kiss him

He hadn't known Spike had it in him to be this tender, but he was not complaining. In just a day, he had grown positively enslaved to those lips, and the way they kissed him and made him forget there was anything else in the world other than Spike and him. The tender exchange would have continued, but for an unexpected presence;

"Oh my God, I'm sorry" the girl stammered, covering her eyes with her hand in an almost funny gesture; he hadn't heard the door open, and obviously neither had Spike.

"Tara" he said surprised, jumping to his feet "What are you doing here?"

"Your mom let me in... I didn't know you were, um... am I interrupting something?" she asked awkwardly, her face deeply blushed

"Nothing, ducks" Spike assured her, grabbing the remote and focusing on the TV as if nothing out of the ordinary had been happening between them

"It's okay Tara" he told her as well, knowing full well the girl would not talk about it with anyone "You needed something?"

"Um, yes" she said, recovering from the shock "There was no muddy demon, right?" she finally asked

"Aw, that..." he exclaimed; _who was nervous now?_ "No, I just... er... made it up... you know... so you would leave"

"You made up a muddy demon so your friends wouldn't see you with me, Xander?" Spike questioned him with an incredulous tone, taking his eyes off the TV for a moment

"That's a radical way of putting it..." he defended himself

"Hey, I'm not complaining... muddy demon's fine" the vampire said, slightly ironic, before turning back to the TV "Good luck getting the slayer to forget about it... way I see it, one innocent muddy demon's getting whacked tonight"

"What, are any muddy demons _actually_ in town?" Tara asked, somewhat concerned

"Yeah, name's Tom. Nice guy, hasn't eaten human flesh in a century... no meat at all, actually. Don't know what kind of demon he is, but he doesn't stand a chance against the slayer..." Spike stated absently, while watching a Hallmark movie he had found interesting

"Oh my god, I've sentenced a vegetarian guy named Tom to death!" he despaired, regretting his stupid idea to get Buffy out of the Bronze

"Yeah, as if he hasn't enough with been slimy and smelly..." Spike said sarcastically "You can always tell the slayer you're on drugs..." he suggested after a brief silence

"That's it, Spike! We're not gonna watch Trainspotting anymore!" he declared, and was surprised to hear a discrete laughing sound coming from the place where Tara stood.

"Well, if you had learnt your lesson from Liar Liar, we wouldn't be in trouble in the first place!"

--o--

A couple more classes, and they were done for the day. While Buffy headed for the cafeteria, almost forcing Richie to go with her, she decided the best she could do would be to go back to Giles, and do some research about last night's demon. That is, if Xander had showed up. She didn't really know if Xander had to work that morning, and she hoped he didn't because, if he was unavailable, looking for the demon would be very difficult.

Entering the library she found nobody other than Giles, who was reading some book while drinking copious amounts of coffee, but right after her arrived Tara and Xander.

"Hi Willow, Giles..." the boy said in his usual manner, taking a second look at the older man "You look tired, G-man"

"Hello Xander... I was, um, reading all night..." the librarian replied casually, refilling his coffee mug "We were hoping you could give us a better description of this demon you saw terrorizing people..."

"Oh, that!" Xander exclaimed, a little more enthusiastically than usual "Yeah, as it turned out, he wasn't terrorizing the general population _on porpoise_! I, um, _Spike_ met him later at Willy's, and the demon was, um, confused... new in town, wanted to know people, but people got scared by his slime and his, um, smell... poor guy, he's just friendly... vegetarian demon" the boy babbled

"Well, of course..." Giles said, removing his glasses to clean them "Many harmless demons do come to Sunnydale for tourism... but, are you sure this demon you mentioned is truly harmless?"

"Oh, yeah, as a kitten!" Xander assured him "Eats no kind of meat, drinks no alcohol, doesn't smoke..."

"Xander, it sound like you're putting a good word for this guy..." she interrupted him in his incessant babbling "Did Spike ask you to do that?"

"What?! Spike?! Why would Spike ask me to do that? I don't do things for Spike!" he replied, speaking too fast even for his usual self "I gotta go now... I have a, um... house to build! Bye" he added as he hurriedly walked away and out of the library

"What's wrong with Xander?" she asked concerned

"Oh, nothing, he's just nervous..." Tara assured her "Maybe he has issues at work..." she suggested

Then it struck her that, since they had started collage, they had involuntarily secluded Xander just a little. Having classes to attend, and homework to take care of, it was less and less often that they really spent time with Xander, other than at the Bronze some nights, and at the Magic Box in weekends. She couldn't recall the last time Xander and her had had a heart-to-heart talk, and she certainly knew very little of what her friend's life was like of late other than general information.

Feeling terrible about it, she decided it was time she left the books aside for a while, and spent some quality time with her oldest friend.

--o--

__

What a day! Waking up with Richie's sleeping body next to his had been certainly the best part so far, and if his suspicions were correct, probably the best it would get for long time. After a the young immortal had left, he had had enough time to take a quick –and much needed- shower, and then he had gone to work, arriving there barely on time and cursing long forgotten Gods when he had seen the object of his affection talking with the slayer and her friend.

He had nothing against the slayer, other than the fact that she slept her way through his classes, knew nothing about history, and made jokes about killing him –alright, maybe he _did_ have something against her. But all the same, what bothered him the most about her was that she was obviously hitting on Richie all the time. _His_ Richie. He would have murdered her in cold blood, but he liked to think he had outgrown himself in the last few millennia.

Still, despite his displeasure regarding Richie's relation with the slayer, he was in very high spirits. It wasn't everyday that he got to fuck a long-sustained crush, after all, and even if Richie decided he didn't want to talk to him for a thousand years, he couldn't avoid feeling exited about what _had_ happened. And, he reasoned, there was no reason why Richie would avoid him at all; he had offered a blow-job, guilty as charged, but it hadn't been his suggestion to fuck.

After his first class he had gone to the library, and had found two serious hangover victims there: Joe and Rupert. He had offered his miraculous hangover cure, but as usual had been declined –stupid contemporary skepticism, and then he had been invited to meet them at Rupert's again that evening. He did not actually own a triangle, in case anyone wondered, but he _did_ know how to play some instruments; unfortunately, none of the kind that were easily purchased in this day and age.

Then redhead had ran into the library all but shouting about a muddy demon, and they had had to leave before she got any more embarrassed and made things worse, forcing him and Joe to reveal themselves as watchers. He was getting his watcher tattoo done again, and it suddenly sounded like a good bargain to be Richie's watcher, but he did _not_ want anyone in this town knowing about his extracurricular job. If you explain watchers, you have to explain immortals, and once you explain immortals it's a matter of time before someone gets suspicious –specially a slayer.

He was now in his office, marking some papers after his last class, when his annoyingly over-enthusiastic secretary interrupted him, knocking in the door before entering, and proudly announcing;

"One Mr. Joseph Dawson is here to see you"

"Send him in" he told her, and she left all but jumping on her heels; he had to admit it, her constant willfulness was starting to become obnoxious "Come in Joe, have a seat" he offered smilingly when the man finally entered

"I think your secretary thinks you're running a multimillionaire company here..." his friend laughed as he took a chair across from him "I'm amazed she didn't search me for concealed weapons!"

"She didn't?" he asked in faked surprise "Well, I specifically told her to do so! You can never be too safe!"

"It wouldn't surprise me if you did" Joe grinned, and then switched voice tones and started scolding him "Where the hell did Richie go last night? I knocked on his door for fifteen minutes, and the first time around I could swear he was not even there!"

It was amazing how Joe could always make him feel like a guilty child when he talked authoritative; for a moment he actually reacted to the mortal as if he were an elder, and then couldn't help it to chuckle at the idea.

"C'mon, Joe, don't treat me like the child who stole some candy!" he complained "I took him to a nightclub where he specifically requested to go, and then he picked someone up and left. Don't expect me to give you a full report, I'm not into voyeurism!" he explained, sticking to the facts as much as he could without giving away too much; from experience, that was the best way of lying.

"I should have known" Joe sighed "That kid cannot keep it in his pants... I had assumed it would be hard to keep tabs on him, but he wastes no time!" he said, almost as if he were talking to himself "Well, never mind!" he finally exclaimed, loosening up a bit "I'll see you tonight at Rupert's"

"I'll tell April to cancel a few business meetings, and I'll be there" he said jokingly as his friend stood up to leave

"Bring your triangle over, we could use some good music" Joe replied in the same spirit

"You find me a lyre or a lute, and I'll show you music..." he told his friend, but Joe just dismissed him with a wave of his hand and left. Was it that hard to believe that a five thousands years old could have some talent?

--o--

The sun was setting, and it was going to be a beautiful night. The warm California weather was exquisite, and sometimes she found such pleasure in walking the nighttime streets and seducing victims in crowded nightclubs she almost forgot the reason why she was there. But she never forgot for long; she had constant work to do. She would have him back, and she would reunite the four of them again; they would be family, as they had once been.

He was resisting, she should give him that much, but he wasn't invincible. He was weak, and his ideals were only but an illusion of his confused mind; deep down, he knew who he was. _She_ knew who he was. She had not only seen him in action, back in the day, but she could see now... all the things her sire had proudly displayed, lay deep within this pathetic creature, and were only waiting to resurface. It wouldn't take much longer.

In a few more nights, if she judged him ready for it, she would go to him; she would lure him, deceive him, and confuse him. Then, she would take him with her, and she would make sure that, very slowly, he started finding himself back. Eventually, he would take pleasure in the things he secretly craved, and he would eventually come around. He would be himself again, and she would teach him how to do it.


	7. 07

I don't beta, because I don't know many of the english-speaking type of people. I don't post often, because RL is kicking me in the reara lot lately. There is a likeliness of a plot here, but I don't do much of that either. Gah.

(¯·.(¯·.(¯·. 1 .·´¯).·´¯).·´¯)

Methos had arrived about an hour ago, right on time for dinner, and had hardly directed a glance in his direction since then. He didn't know what to make of it, really. If last night had been nothing but some wild occasional sex, then there would be no reason why Adam would pay any attention to him whatsoever; Adam _did not_ usually pay attention to him, as much as he could tell, and it had been really a shocker that he had cared enough to fuck him in the first place. Still, he tried to convince himself that the oldest immortal had better plans for him than a one night stand, however hot it had been, so he adjudicated his current indifference towards him as concealing maneuver.

After they finished eating dinner, he moved to the couch and Giles started offering drinks. He could have used a beer, but all he got was some Coke Joe had purposely bought earlier that evening; a little revengeful prank for his disappearance the night before. Both for his pleasure and his discomfort, the other immortal sprawled on the double couch where he had chosen to sit, his body barely far enough not to make contact with his. However, nothing in the old guy's appearance indicated that he had sat there because of him, or that it was any different to him than any other place.

"Bloody hell, this itches... tell me again why I had to have this damned thing done _yet_ once more?" Adam complained, waving his recently re-tattooed wrist around in a gesture that resembled that of a person asking someone to hurry up. He wondered who had made the tattoo, and how had they not noticed the fact that it started healing almost instantly, but it was not a possibility to ask. Maybe later on he would.

"Stop whining like a girl, Adam" Joe laughed "When you had it removed you _knew_ you would have to get it done again, unless you changed your name and settled permanently in Bora Bora. It's not like you get out of the watchers that easily..."

"Bora Bora is beautiful at this time of the year" the old guy replied, either truly annoyed or masterly faking it "I wish you had suggested it _before_ you came to me with a job..."

From there on, the conversation passed him by. He was barely conscious of Giles asking a question to Adam, one of those that got the oldest immortal in deep-lying mode, and then a vain attempt of Joe's to cut the matter short before Adam got too exited about it, but to no avail. He didn't know Methos as well as Joe, and yet he _knew_ that whenever the old timer got an opportunity to show off how knowledgeable he was, he would not be stopped. However, he had other things in his mind to actually pay attention to the words. All of them had to do with the speaking man.

Methos in the Bronze the night before, casually offering him a blow-job as one would offer a beer. Methos reclined on the side of his car, waiting patiently outside the nightclub. Methos leaning over and kissing him, so much like he had imagined it would be and yet so deeply unlike it. Methos' naked body against his, tongues battling with each other as very expert hands played with his cock, making him beg for more. Methos inside of him, fucking him painfully slow at first, and then hard and fast until they both came in an unison. Methos asleep next to him, Methos kissing him tenderly in the morning before they parted...

He managed to pull away from those thoughts just in time to avoid the growing bulge in his pants to become painful, and shifting carefully to hide the confession of his thoughts he became aware that the oldest immortal was no longer talking, but was rather staring at him with curiosity written in his expression. Casting a glance at the two mortals, he realized they were playing their guitars and singing together, oblivious to the two younger –make that _younger-looking_- men. For the looks of it, they had been playing for a while, and it looked like his one-time lover had been watching him intently for quite a long while as well.

"I take it you don't like that song" Methos eventually spoke, not taking his eyes off him "You have a request?" he asked with a grin, the look on his eyes saying way more than his words

He was at a lose for words, not knowing how to read the expression the oldest immortal wore, and thanked God with a sigh when the two players stopped momentarily, Joe putting an angry act that was far from believable.

"Okay Adam, we get the message... _you_ don't like the song" the watcher said "Any suggestions?"

"Joe don't be unfair, you know I love _everything_ that you do" the ancestral guy replied with faked indignation "But since you ask..." he added with a grin, momentarily thinking before blurting out the name of a song that came out incomprehensible to him, but obviously not for the older men, who shook their heads in disbelief but all the same started playing at once as Methos himself improvised a drum of sorts, marking the rhythm with a book that had been lying on top of the coffee table and his foot on the floor. The lyrics to the song were barely short from making him faint.

_"I don't know what it is that makes me love you so, _

_"I only know I never wanna let you go_

_"'Cause you started something, can't you see_

_"That ever since we met you've had a hold on me_

_"It happens to be true, _

_"I only wanna be with you_

In that moment, he just wanted to run. No matter where, just run like hell and hide away before he was too blushed to make a clean exit. Not to mention hard. The mere thought that Adam might actually mean _any_ of those words, was enough to get him a bit overly enthusiastic for an unknown man's house. Make that an _elder_ unknown man's house. As soon as the song was over he got to his feet, making good use of his coat to cover a certain part of his anatomy that just didn't work at his command.

"Look at the time" he tried his best to sound surprised "I really must be going! I have a, um, _thing_ to do... and I'm late! Joe, I'll see you at the hotel..." he said on his way out, scolding himself for been so bad an actor "Dinner was great Rupert, thanks..." he murmured before crossing the threshold and taking a deep relieved breath, just after the door closed behind him.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_, he damned himself as he hastily walked away from the librarian's house and to the Bronze. He should have listened to a certain friend from his 10th grade who had told him: never sleep with your teachers, your parents' friends, or people who are way out of your league. _Stupid!_ He had done all three things at once, and the kid had not even put in his list 'people who are five thousand years old and can chop off your head'. _Stupid!_

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"Kids!" Methos exclaimed the instant Richie closed the door behind him "They wouldn't know good music if you shoved it up their ass!" he stated with an odd grin in his face as he headed for the kitchen to fetch another beer

"Rather crude way of putting it, but yes..." Rupert had to admit, refilling his own glass with some scotch "All they listen to nowadays is noise"

"Good idea of yours to bring some beer, Joe..." the young look-alike man congratulated him, reentering the room and dropping himself in the couch once more

"Don't get too comfortable, Adam... you _are_ going after Richie, you know?" he said, trying his best too sound serious

"You're all work and no fun tonight, Joe..." Methos complained, making a great deal out of standing up "I _hate_ this job... researching Methos was so much easier..." he sighed, grabbing his coat without abandoning his bottle of beer

He had decided from the beginning to let Rupert know that Richie was the immortal Adam had been assigned to, thinking it better for the kid that way. His old friend had assured him the secret would stay with him, and he would trust Rupert with his life, so there was no problem there, and it was much better to put the cards on the table if a slayer was involved.

"I was thinking, Joe..." the annoying old bastard insisted, turning his back on his way out to sound casual "Since you're the kid's guardian and all... can't you just ask him in the morning what did he do?"

_Yeah, right. 'I was just thinking', my ass_. "I'm your superior, too, and I'm asking you to go" he put his foot down, asking himself whether the old guy did ever do anything if he could avoid to.

Truth of the matter was, he knew Richie would probably go meet whoever it was he had slept with the night before and Methos would be able to call it a quits in no time, but he wanted some time alone with Rupert. The song that the immortal watcher had randomly asked had made old memories stir within himself, and he could tell by the look on Rupert's face –a look he knew too well- that they would probably have a lot to talk about if only the ancient annoyance decided to leave.

"What the hell!" Methos sighed, amazingly easy to convince for some reason "I'll see you two in the morning... Rup, Joe..." he said as a goodbye, walking with long steps strangely free of manipulative intentions "Just don't drink too much, since you don't want my recipe..."

Then he was gone. He would have to ask himself in the morning why had the old bastard been so easily convinced to go, but right now he had more important things to think of. For example, the knowing look Giles was suddenly giving him.

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It had turned out wonderfully. First of all, he had been just delighted by the way Richie had been staring at him throughout dinner, and then the way he had been obviously fantasizing about him in the couch. He could tell it was about him by the way the kid freaked when he realized he was staring at him, and the deathblow had been delivered instantly when he had asked his mortal friends to play that song... it had been hilarious.

And now again it seemed like luck was on his side, because the two men had seemed about as eager that he left as he had been about leaving. He had insisted that he wanted to stay, of course, but he had taken his chance because it seemed rather obvious that nobody was going to second him in that; there were sparks flying all over the place, which had been a real shocker. Still, he would have time to figure that out in the morning. Right now, it was playtime.

By the time he arrived at the Bronze he was not surprised to find Richie sharing a table with the slayer and her two friends; he had counted on that. After all he was a guy who enjoyed a good challenge –of the kind that didn't involve swords of course- and he just wanted to see what the current status of his relationship with Richie was. If he could make it more than a one-night stand he certainly would, slayer or no slayer. And he secretly hoped that he could.

He chose his way to the bar carefully, taking the path that would let them see him all the best. It wasn't always good that yours students saw you in a place like this, but he had been seen in worse, and it wasn't like _snoozer_ actually respected him at all already. On the other hand, it was part of his strategy that Richie got a good look of him. Little to lose, much to win.

In the bar, as it couldn't have been any other way, he found the undead patron of whom he had grown quite fond of late. From the distance he could already tell that the vampire was in quite a better mood than he had been the night before. Without any direct greeting he took the stool next to the blond, and ordered a beer. He could use a few more –or a dozen.

"Your friend seems overly friendly with the slayer..." Spike stated casually, acknowledging his presence "Can't be good for a bloke's health... unless he wants an easy shag. I hear the slayer's pretty easy"

"Must be all that adrenaline from the fighting" he grinned, trusting Richie wouldn't settle for easy shag if he could have him "There's just so many things you can do to make it go away..."

"Sounds like the voice of experience..." the vampire said, looking at him for the first time, an eyebrow raised as he spoke "But you don't look like the fighting type... and, where _do_ you get such boring clothes?" he chuckled

"All part of a deliberate strategy to remain unnoticed... most of the interesting activities don't require clothing anyway" he replied with a grin "Speaking of which, where is Xander?" he asked, truly interested

"Having dinner with his parents... sods remembered he existed for some reason" the undead answered, sounding quite pissed "He's supposed to come afterwards, but I don't think he'll make it to the bar with the slayer and her friends sitting that close to the door..." he sighed.

Was that a sigh? A _vampire_ sigh? This was getting more and more interesting by the minute. In five thousand years, he had never seen a lovesick vampire, and had honestly never thought he would see one. If Spike hadn't admitted it himself, he would have started suspecting he had misjudged him, and he was only just a guy. And not even the kind of guy that dresses the way this one did.

"Hope you have someone too" the vampire interrupted him in his musings "Sunnydale's not the place to get a date. Half the population is either dead or not human, and the slayer either shags them or kills them, so there's not much left"

"How about the other half?" he asked, finding the idea of the slayer fucking demons before killing them quite amusing

"Either underage, dislikable, married, or gay. Hope you like blokes" the blond said ironically "'Coz the gay-meter in town is scarier than most of the inhuman things in it"

"I have someone in mind already..." he replied absentmindedly, noticing that the slayer and her friends were saying their good-byes to Richie

"Good luck then" the vampire said, raising his beer in a symbolic toast "I know I'm in a lucky night, since the slayer's made an early retreat..."

"She would... I made sure she had enough homework for a lifetime..." he grinned, taking a good drink as he carefully followed with his eyes the approaching figure of Richie. It took just a few minutes before the young immortal took the seat next to him, looking quite cool for someone who had just ran out of a house in panic a while earlier. To avoid the kid further humiliations, he ordered a beer and offered it to him; getting carded was probably the last thing he needed, and he liked Richie nervous, but not about anything that he wasn't directly involved in.

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"She would... I made sure she had enough homework for a lifetime..." Adam grinned, taking a long drink as he turned his head towards the place where the slayer had been only seconds ago.

He was going to love this guy! He had never asked what did Adam do for a living, and he had certainly not suspected him to be an educator. Anyway, it soon became obvious to him that Adam had ulterior reasons to curse the slayer with tons of homework, other than the fact that he didn't appear to be crazy about her. All the same it worked for him, so no complaints.

The boy was a cherub, with the curly blond –or was it red- hair and the huge blue eyes; he recognized him immediately as the same boy who had been sitting in that very same place the night before, listening to way too much of his brief conversation with Xander. He did appear a little young for someone Adam's age, but who the hell was he to judge! One thing he sort of regretted was the joke about gay people though, because he honestly liked Adam –he felt like the guy could actually understand him very well- and didn't care to lose a friendship he was already starting to feel as such.

"I didn't catch your name last night, mate" he told the kid, feeling somewhat in the mood for a good deed. The boy was raving nervous; he did a good job concealing it, but vampire senses didn't miss that kind of thing.

"No, um, Richie... Richard, but people call me Richie" the boy replied

"So... you're with Adam, right?" he asked matter-of-factly, too tempted by the kid's embarrassment. Against his expectations, the older human just chuckled at the indiscrete question, while the younger one opened his eyes to the point they almost looked like they were going to pop out of the sockets, and remained silent.

"You're a damned creature" Adam finally said, obviously too amused to give the sentence the proper tone "Remind me to ask your Xander the same question"

Well, he had it coming for abusing the kids' state. All the same, it would probably be a while before Xander managed to escape his parents and come to the Bronze; the assholes didn't usually remember he existed, but whenever they seemed to recall they had a son they would suffocate him for a while. He turned his back to Adam to order another beer, when suddenly the guy's voice reached him, making the hairs on his back stand on end.

"Hi Xander" the bastard said, and before he could interrupt him "I take it Spike and you solved your lovers' tiff last night"

Now it was the time for beautiful brown eyes to stare wide open in shock, just like blue ones had short minutes before.

"I'm going to kill you, you know that?" he said in his best threatening voice, at which Adam just laughed. To his surprise, Xander recovered almost instantly from the blow, and then quite dexterously redirected it;

"Is your boyfriend always this annoying?" the scooby said to Richie, which made Adam chuckle again; but not for long

"Yeah, he can be a pain in the ass" the blue-eyed wonder conceded, a grin on his face as he finished his beer

"Next time I'll be gentler..." he heard Adam say under his breath, not loud enough for Xander to listen but more than necessary to make the other kid choke on his drink. He couldn't help it to laugh at that...

"What? What?" Xander asked confused, not able to get why Richie was coughing and the two older men were laughing

"We're gonna get going" Adam said before anyone else could speak, standing up to go "We'll leave you two kids to have some time for yourselves... it's late anyway, and someone has a _lot_ of homework to do"

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"What?" he insisted, once Adam and his friend were gone; he hated it when people laughed and he didn't get the joke

"Nothing luv, come here and have a beer" his lover offered, patting the stool next to him

Damn, he had missed the asshole. Dinner with his parents had been a nightmare –well, more of a nightmare than usual. As a rule, he hated the times when his folks remembered his existence and acted nice towards him, because he was not used to it and not particularly interested anymore. As a kid, he had wanted more attention, but now... now he had friends who cared, and he had Spike. It had seemed absurd to waste time with his parents when he could have spent it with Spike.

"You pay?" he asked jokingly, glad to take the seat that was offered

"Not bloody likely" the vampire hissed "Don't have that much money... and that bastard just went away without paying his tab"

"Sounds like someone I know" he chuckled, taking some money out of his pocket to pay for the drinks

"Not the same" Spike stated, indignant "I am an evil creature of the night, you should expect me not to pay my tab... I should be drinking the bugger's blood instead of beer!"

"I would advice against it though... I don't think I'd want to kiss you with Adam's blood in your mouth" he said teasingly, immediately reminding himself he was at the Bronze! _Idiot_.

"In a good mood, are we?" Spike said surprised, one eyebrow raised in his characteristic expression of disbelief "Maybe we should forget the beers and go home..."

It sounded like a definitely good idea, and he was about to reply when suddenly he heard a voice he knew too well calling out his name. _Willow_. Willow?

"Will!" he jumped to his feet, shocked to find the redhead walking towards them "What are you doing here?" he asked before he could stop himself "I mean, were is Tara?" he hurried to say

"Oh, she's busy with some homework..." his friend answered smilingly, obviously unaware of what she had interrupted "I finished mine early, so I thought I might spend some quality time with my friend Xander... your mom said you'd be here" she explained, taking the seat Xander had just vacated and ordering a soda, which the bartender delivered along with his beer

Having no place else to sit he had to take the next stool, letting Willow sit between him and Spike, and noticing the vampire's annoyed look at the redhead's intrusion. For some reason, he was quite embarrassed to take the beer he had ordered in front of her, and he considered telling the guy at the bar he had made a mistake, but then reminded himself he was old enough to do what he pleased and grabbed the bottle.

"Since when do you drink beer?" she asked curious, making him regret that he had not returned it

"Bloody hell, he's old enough to drink whatever he likes!" Spike exclaimed before he could come up with a worthy excuse; for some reason it warmed his heart that Spike had defended him, in his own special way of course.

"I know" she blushed, obviously not expecting the vampire's reaction "It's just you never drank beer before... I guess I'm not been paying as much attention to you as I used to, with collage, and Tara... I haven't been such a good friend to you of late" she said remorsefully

"Will... it's okay, really" he assured her, moved by her concern "We're still good friends... I understand you have a lot in your mind now that we're older, and you can't be all day with me. Really..."

"I know, it's just..." she started to say, and then turned to look at Spike, as if realizing for the first time he was _actually_ there "Why are you having beers _with Spike_?" she suddenly said, using the very same words Buffy had used only a few night ago.

"What? I have him living at my place, but I can't have a beer with him?" he replied, aware that he did not want to be defensive as he had been when Buffy had asked the same question; he had no reasons to excuse himself, and it would hurt Spike. For some reason, he was loath to hurt Spike.

"Yeah, I know, sorry..." she apologized "I know it must be annoying to you, but Giles really needed to take a bath every once in a while, and besides Spike was driving him out of his mind"

"I'm sitting _right here_!" the vampire exclaimed, notoriously pissed as he asked another beer and lit a cigarette

"I'm sorry, Spike" the girl apologized, _yet once again_ "It's just I have trouble getting used to the fact you're not lethal anymore..."

"So, Will, how's school!" he nervously interrupted her before she kept on screwing up; he could see where the conversation was going, and it would end up with Spike leaving or Willow crying, neither of which sounded particularly appealing.

"Um, good" she answered, a little surprised by the change of subject "We have this new teacher... Mr. Pierson? He's great, but he's a little tough on us... he's always giving us loads of homework, and he asks these difficult questions all the time... I think he hates Buffy" she explained casually, he eyes wide open for emphasis

"I've heard of him... they say he's a cheap bastard too" Spike declared with a grin

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"So, um, maybe I should go do my homework..." he said tentatively as they stood in front of the hotel's elevator

"If you want to..." Adam replied casually, his eyes on the red light that indicated the floor the elevator was in "If you have something better to do, I can always not ask you any questions in class..."

"I don't know..." he said somewhat nervously "Got any plans?"

"Maybe..." the oldest immortal grinned, just at the same time as the elevator doors opened.

"Like what?" he insisted as Adam pressed the button to his floor

He thought he was going to faint when the elevator doors closed and Methos walked slowly towards to him, stopping so close he could feel the older immortal's breath in his face.

"I'm open to suggestions" Adam whispered softly, placing his hands on the elevator wall on each side of his head

The old man looked so incredibly tempting, standing there in front of him, his lips an invitation that couldn't be refused. He kissed him passionately, Methos' mouth instantly open to his exploration, his hands descending from the wall to rest on his shoulders; he didn't know when he put his own hands in the small of the old man's back.

Then the elevator door opened, and much against their will they pulled apart to meet two giggling teenager girls, who stood outside the elevator without daring to step in.

"Ladies..." Methos said politely as they walked out of the elevator and towards his room, the old man's arm holding him by the waist all the way.

The two girls were still staring at them when they stopped in front of the door, Methos looking for his keys, but he didn't pay much attention to the girls at all; after the kiss in the elevator, he could hardly think of anything other than the man beside him.

"Come here..." Methos whispered as he locked the door behind them and took both his hand in his, slowly walking backwards towards the bed with his hazel eyes fixed on his. He didn't know if he was been pulled by Methos' hands, or his eyes. Then they stopped, and the hands that had guided him pulled him closer, going to rest in his waist. When Methos' mouth met his there were no doubts as to what he wanted; Buffy did not exist, none of his past lovers existed. It was only Methos.

Then the experienced hands of his immortal lover traced their way slowly to his ass, pulling him closer to increase contact. Methos was as hard as he was, and the arousal of the other man did nothing but add to his own. They rubbed their erections against each other's for some time, their hips moving of their own will, until the older man pulled away from the kiss, and before he could complain he found himself sitting on the bed.

"I believe I owe you something..."

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_Second night in a row! I'm not twenty anymore..._ he reminded himself as he awoke to a killer headache. Dog hair was starting to sound appealing, if only it would take the hangover away. Still, as the previous morning, he did not regret the course of events that had led to it in the very least.

Rupert and him had been friends for years, and lovers for a good portion of that time. It had not come as a shocker that they could still be friends, still understand each other and have fun together, and still feel attracted to one another when given the proper circumstances. They were not getting any younger, but somehow when they were together it didn't seem like they had grown any older either.

As soon as Adam had closed the door behind him, they hadn't needed anything but a glance at each other to know that the old flame was still burning, and it was still surprising how easy it had been. Decades were blown away, and they were again the two kids, playing their guitars together, getting drunk together, and comforting each other with hugs and kisses afterwards. They had made love as if they had never been apart, and they had fallen asleep cuddling like they would have almost thirty years ago. In the morning, it hadn't been awkward in the least.

_Hold on. Rewind._ Methos, the most annoying immortal ever, had left with almost no complaining. _When did Methos ever do something that someone asked him to?_ Only when he had personal motives to actually agree with that hypothetical someone. And even with his hangover he could certainly remember he had promised himself to figure out _why_ the old man had been so nice. With that in mind, he took a quick shower and left his room.

He knocked on Methos' door for some minutes with no success, which he had of course expected. The old guy was not an early riser, and he had not knocked loud enough to awake him if he was indeed asleep. Not only because he didn't want to wake up the entire hotel, but because he smelled a fish and just wanted an excuse to come in uninvited. He had stopped by Richie's room on the way, and had received no answer, so he had headed downstairs and asked a lovely receptionist for a key to Methos' room. She had been reticent to provide it at first, but had proved very enthusiastic to help when offered a modest monetary compensation for the trouble.

After five minutes of no answer, he took the key from his pocket and let himself in. For some reason, he wasn't at all surprised by the sight he met; the oldest immortal and Richie, entangled in a confuse knot of naked limbs, both asleep in the king size bed. He cleared his throat, and was rewarded with Richie's startled awakening, followed by the oldest immortal slower counterpart.

"Oh, my God, Joe!" Richie snapped, grabbing the sheets frantically in an attempt to cover his flagrant nudity "This is _so_ not what it looks like!"

"Okay, so they didn't steal your clothes in the elevator and dropped you here after rendering you both unconscious... then what?" he asked mockingly, slightly annoyed that they hadn't told him, and somehow trying to figure how he was going to tell MacLeod about it. Maybe he just wouldn't.

"Oh _puh-leez_, Joe..." Methos chuckled, not making the slightest move to modify a situation that would have been awkward for someone a little self-conscious "I seriously doubt _we_ were the only ones getting some last night..."

"Very observant, old man" he chuckled, unable to get mad at the annoying bastard "You should have told me about this!" he complained, walking towards the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of iced water "I really _was_ worried about you, Richie..."

"Oh, c'mon Joe!" the kid sighed, obviously aware that he had no way out if this "What was I supposed to tell you? Hey Joe, I just got a roll in the hay with Methos?"

"You damn well should have!" he scolded the blushing kid "Listen, Mac was very specific on the fact that I should keep an eye on you at all times, because of this ability of yours to get in trouble wherever you go... I never thought I'd hear myself saying this, but with the history you have it's relieving that you're _only_ having sex with Methos!"

"Oh please Joe, give the kid a break" the old man exclaimed, unselfconsciously getting out from under the sheets and putting on his discarded boxers "And what do you mean _only_ having sex with Methos?" he said offended as he walked towards the refrigerator "I'll have you know there's plenty of people out there who would consider themselves lucky to sleep with me..."

"I can see why..." he grinned, receiving an arched eyebrow from the oldest immortal and a painful blush from the kid "Now listen, seriously, I'm not gonna make a fuss of this... but you have any idea how Mac could react to this?"

"Oh come on, Joe!" Adam complained, returning to the bed and sitting on the edge as he drank some water from a bottle "MacLeod is a big boy..." the old man paused for a minute, then concluded "And he doesn't have to know"

"I'm not telling him, if that's what you mean" he assured them, noticing the sigh of relief from Richie "I don't want to see your head on a spike just yet, Adam..."

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She had just gotten back from a trip, half business, half pleasure. It had been only a couple of days, and Dawn had been more than thrilled to stay a few days at a friend's house, but all the same she felt somewhat guilty for going away. She had gone to Seacouver to purchase some pieces for an exposition, and in hurry to finish everything as soon as possible and return home to her daughters she had almost gotten killed while crossing a street. A tall man had pushed her aside from the car that would have most certainly ran her over and pulled her to the sidewalk. Imagine her surprise when she had recognized him as Duncan MacLeod.

They had first met some five years ago, when he and his girlfriend, Tessa, had been running a quite unique antiques store, containing pieces which belonged to a museum more than to a shop. In successive trips she and Tessa had become very good friends, and she had been devastated to learn of Tessa's death in one of her visits, after which she had never again attempted to contact Mac. Not because she didn't care about him, but because she had noticed that her presence did more harm than good, as she seemed to remind him of Tessa –a thing for which he was not ready yet.

He had recognized her at once, and once safely on the sidewalk he had held her in a bear hug for a couple of seconds, before a discernible coughing sound was heard coming from behind them. Then he had introduced her to Amanda, an _old friend_ he had said, but for the looks of it more like a girlfriend. She had been happy that Mac had been able to move on, and had promised to give him a call when she got back home, but for her tight schedule she had been unable to spend much time with him. She _would_ call him as soon as she finished the last touch-ups of the exposition.

She was taken from her thoughts by a loud knocking on the back door which she at once answered, to find a blanket-covered Spike hurrying inside. He was smoking as he entered, but greeted her with a huge smile and a quick hug.

"It's great to have you back in town, Joyce... I kind if missed you" he said smilingly as he took a seat in a kitchen stool

"You look happy Spike" she smiled back, putting the kettle on to prepare some of the hot cocoa the vampire loved "What happened?"

"Oh, you missed a lot while you were away..." he told her, his eyes glinting with a kind of excitement she had never seen in him "I really don't know if I should be this happy, I mean, I don't even know where any of this is going..." he started to babble "...don't tell anyone that I said I'm happy, by the way, evil master vampires are not supposed to be _happy_... just morbidly amused at best..."

"Spike" she interrupted him, trying to avoid laughing at the vampire's pride "What is it?"

Truth of the matter, she really liked Spike. Sure, they hadn't met in the best of circumstances, what with her hitting him with an axe and him trying to kill them all, but she had gotten to see pass all that evil-vampire nonsense. Hearing enough of his stories, it was plain to her that most of the evil things Spike had done during decades on end had been nothing but an attempt to do what he was supposed to do, to please Angel –that was one vampire she did not trust-, and find his place in the world.

Fortunately, he now had the chip; he might complain about it, but as far as it concerned her it was an excellent excuse to start finding himself back without the need to prove how evil a vampire he was lest he should be mocked or found inadequate. _Electronic rationalization_.

"Well, I found someone..." he grinned, accepting the mug of hot cocoa she offered him

"Well, I'm happy for you Spike" she congratulated him in a motherly way "Is she human?" she asked curiously, and was surprised when he choke on his drink

"Are you okay?" she said concerned

"Yeah, vampires can't choke to death..." he grinned "And yeah, _he_ is human"

"Aw" was all she could think of to reply. She _had not_ seen that one coming. Now at least she knew in a way what Willow's mother had felt like when she had learned about her daughter and her friend Tara. Just _when_ did she start feeling this motherly towards a vampire, anyway? "Someone I know?" she asked halfheartedly, still trying to process the idea of Spike liking men. _How unlikely was that?_

"Actually, yeah..." he sighed "Listen, Joyce, I need you to promise you will not tell anyone... _ever_"

"Well, of course, I've never told anyone any of the things we talk about..." she said serenely, taking a sip from her own cocoa mug and reminding herself there could be no worse shocks _that_.

"Okay... It's Xander" the vampire said suddenly, and it was her turn now to choke on cocoa.

(¯·.(¯·.(¯·. 9 .·´¯).·´¯).·´¯)

"Oh, here you are Buffy" he said with a soft smile, not having noticed her presence before; he was pretending to read a book, but the hangover and the memories of the previous night were keeping him from actually doing any real work.

"Hey Giles. You were so into your book I didn't want to disturb you..." she smiled back at him, and then frowned as she caught a better look of him "You look... you don't look good" she stated, walking closer and removing the book from his hands "Are you sick, Giles?"

"No, I am quite fine Buffy" he assured her, noticing with weary eyes that Xander walked into the library as well, followed by Willow and Tara "I received a large book shipment at the Magic Box yesterday, and I probably stayed working late... but that is all"

"I thought Anya was helping you..." Willow said with a concerned look on her face "You really look bad, Giles... maybe you should take the day off.."

"No, no, I'm perfectly fine, you need not worry..." he insisted, for a moment fearing they would never drop the subject. Fortunately for him, they had classes to attend...

"I just came by to tell you I won't be coming after classes" Buffy announced on her way out, following Willow and Tara "Mom just got home today, and I want to visit her"

Then they were gone, leaving only Xander behind. He looked up at the boy, and noticed he was grinning as he stared at him.

"What is it that you find so amusing, Xander?" he asked, somewhat annoyed

"Easy, G-man" the boy laughed good-naturedly "I was just wondering what happened last night that you got so wasted..." then the boy laughed again, this time probably at his shocked expression "Oh, come on! Family of alcoholics here! I can tell when someone is having a bad hangover!"

"Well, very interesting... is there something you needed?" he asked, trying to sound as neutral as possible while he just begged for the ground to open up and swallow him.

"I was bored at home, so I figured maybe there was something I could help you with... you know, research and stuff" for a moment the boy paused, then concluded "Okay, I don't tell anyone you got real drunk last night, and you won't tell anyone I was _so_ bored with my pathetic life that I actually asked to help with research"

"Alright Xander" he smiled thankfully "There is a prophesy I am currently researching, something about great evil been released... chaos, destruction, death... it's supposed to be imminent"

"Sounds like good hellmouthy fun..." the boy said ironically, letting himself fall on a chair next to him "Any clues...?"

"Not that I can find" Giles sighed in frustration "The prophesy in itself is rather cryptic. 'When the oldest and the youngest join their blood/the jaws of hell shall be unlocked;/the four shall raid the earth once more/bringing death to one and all'" Giles recited

"That's all?" Xander said surprised by the brevity of it

"That is all that I have access to" he confessed "It is a rather new prophesy, written barely a few years ago by a mysterious seer, a woman... she went to the Council around the time Buffy was called, in a terrible state of distress, and kept babbling about the end of the world for weeks on end. Then one day she disappeared, the same mysterious way she had arrived, leaving only that small piece of writing and the few and quite incomprehensible records some of the scholars at the Council had managed to make of her ranting"

"Do you have those? The records?" the boy insisted "Maybe we can make sense of some of it..."

"Yes, perhaps..." he said hopefully, walking his way to his office to bring the notebook in which everything was written. He really wished he didn't have to deal with something of this magnitude in this precise moment, but when the Council had sent it along with the notes on the seer's ramblings with a character of urgency he had just known it was a pressing matter. The Council was not known to overreact, which meant the situation must be extremely compromised for them to ask the matter be addressed directly and with extreme caution.

(¯·.(¯·.(¯·. 10 .·´¯).·´¯).·´¯)

_Oh, bloody hell_. He had to do something to get the blond bitch away from Richie before she raped him, he thought as walked towards his classroom and found his boy talking with Snoozer and redhead in the hallway. As he passed them by, he gave her a killer look, and then disappeared inside of his classroom where most of the students were already sitting and waiting for him. When he saw the slayer following Richie and pulling her redheaded friend along, forcing her to sit next to _his_ boy as well, he just _knew_ he had to start the class asking her something she didn't know.

For the most, the class flew by and he was thankful to see the embarrassed look on Richie's eyes every time he looked at him; so much for that, the kid was not thrilled either to be followed around by the slayer. He gave them considerable homework, and then headed off towards the library without even looking at the three teenagers on his way out. He was more than surprised to find Xander in the library, going through some books with Rupert.

"Rup, Xan..." he said offhandedly, dropping himself on a chair after doing the same with the books he was carrying

"Hello Adam", "Hey Adam..." both men answered at once before actually _realizing_ he was there. Then they looked up and they both remained like that for a moment, staring at him.

"You know each other?" Rupert finally asked, obviously surprised

"Yeah, we've seen each other around..." he replied casually, giving the boy a knowing look as to explain he was not going to talk about his vampire lover; the kid obviously understood, and relaxed "So, what were you up to?"

"Uh, not much... prophesy research, you wouldn't be interested..." the watcher explained as he returned to his book... notebook, whatever it was "We're having quite a hard time translating parts of it, but we're managing..."

"Here, let me see that..." he smiled, taking the notes from Rup's hand "If it's written, I can read it"

"He knows? About Buffy?" Xander asked concerned, watching in awe as he carelessly made his way to the pages

"It's complicate, Xander..." the librarian sighed, probably not at his best by the looks of it

"I'll explain later Xan" he smiled at the boy "Just don't tell your friends you saw me here..." he suggested as he continued to go through the book's pages, until he finally came to halt "What _are_ you researching?" he asked concerned, not liking at all what he was seeing.

"It's... we don't know what it is" Rupert confessed somewhat embarrassed "All we have is a four-lines prophesy, a record of the things the seer talked about during her brief time with the watchers, and what you're reading... those were the seer's personal notes, but what we could read did not make much sense, and most of it is written in too many different languages, most of them dead tongues..."

"This can't be good..." he interrupted the librarian, seriously regretting it as soon as he realized he had spoken. Maybe he was wrong, and this all lead somewhere else; he hoped it did. Cassandra's handwriting in the few paragraphs that actually contained letters didn't really calm him, though.

"What? What can't be good? Is this regular hell-mouthy not-good, or most-likely-apocalyptic not-good?" Xander inquired nervously, trying unsuccessfully to conceal his concern

"Listen, I don't really know what this is..." he sighed, and he _truly_ didn't know for sure what it meant, but if it was as he feared it would definitely help to be the one translating it "It's mostly written in Akkadian... some Summerian... ancient tongues from all over Mesopotamia..." _damn you Cassandra, you finally lost it_ "It's mostly nonsensical... says something about a ritual gone awry been the trigger of it... the redeemed one's blood..." _damn you twice over, bitch_ "...the redeemed one's blood will break the barriers of death... the dead will rise to join the living, and they will be four again..." _Oh. Gods_ "This doesn't make any sense, Rupert" he said with an indifferent tone perfected over many a millennia, while on the inside he was screaming and kicking and one step away from running off in panic; but that would not do, and it would probably look rather suspicious.

"You don't think the redeemed one means..." Xander stammered, growing very pale all of a sudden.

"Angel" Rupert finished for him, a somber look setting on his usually amicable face; that was a look he did _not_ want to be on the receiving end of.

Of course, he preferred it everyday to be the recipient of Kronos' wrath, and unless he was wrong he was up for a little get-together with his _brothers_ in no time. Unless he managed to stop it somehow, that is... which would be as easy as to not get involved in _any_ rituals for a while, which he _did not_, as a rule, get involved in. So he should be fine. Or maybe it was not about them, seriously... there must have been _hundreds_ of foursomes killing and maiming and bringing chaos along the millennia, right? _Yeah, right!_ And Cassandra been involved could just be a bloody happy coincidence. _Why are you still here, Methos? You should be on your way to Siam!_

"Adam are you alright?" Xander's concerned voice interrupted his musings

"I am alright..." he assured them "What were you saying


End file.
